#but yeah no one calls it witness tape

[raskies456]

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[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 6

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie. (1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

Chapter Summary: What DID he mean by five? The second meeting.

5.1k words

A/N: How are we feeling in a post-"Flight of Icarus" world, y'all? I knew from the beginning that I'd want to add some of the lore in and let me tell you, I LOVE Ronnie Ecker. For those of you who did not read the book, or haven't had a chance to, Ronnie is Eddie's best friend who ended up with a full scholarship to NYU. They're siblings, your honor.

Also if anyone can show me on this map where the plot is going, I'd really appreciate it.

This late at night, the only sounds in the trailer park came from the occasional dog barking and the echoes of Eddie’s tapes blasting as he pulled up to Wayne’s trailer. His uncle was working tonight as usual, which would normally allow Eddie time to hog the tv before passing out for a few precious hours before he had to get up for school. 

Tonight however, his mind was buzzing with what had just happened less than an hour ago. He liked you, he wasn’t sure how much yet but he did. You were sharp and knew your stuff about metal. It helped that you were cute. Really cute. 

He liked seeing you in the passenger seat of his car, matching wits with his friends and ranting about Ozzy. He liked seeing you laughing and the way you watched him play. He really liked the way you had fiddled with the pick he’d thrown at you at the end of the set. 

Eddie had never done that before. He’d wanted to, but never had anyone’s attention like that before- no. That wasn’t true. There had been one other person who’d listened to him play like that, two years ago. 

Was he always gonna fold to the site of a pretty girl actually paying attention to his music? 

“Of course you are.” Ronnie’s voice echoed on the phone. “And I’m gonna laugh every time you do.” 

Eddie groaned, holding the receiver to his ear as his forehead pressed against the front of the fridge. He hadn’t planned on running to her with this, but he was nowhere near able to wind down. He hadn’t even expected Ronnie to pick up the phone this late at night with the time zone difference and the fact that it was a school night. He’d have to push his stash a bit harder to pay Wayne back for the long distance call. 

The past two years had been a slow crawl of building back trust up with Veronica Ecker. The two had gone almost a whole summer without talking before Eddie had basically groveled for forgiveness outside of Granny Ecker’s trailer before Ronnie left for New York. She had forgiven him enough to let him give her a ride to the airport. 

“Last time?” He’d asked. 

“Last time.” She’d repeated. 

“So why didn’t you shack up with her tonight?” Ronnie asked. “You got her into your van, and you dropped her off like a gentleman.” 

“I don’t know, I panicked.” Eddie sighed, bonking his head against the fridge a few times. “She was right there, and she was leaning in and all I saw was Paige leaning in-”

“You know not every girl who shares your taste in music is Paige, right?” Eddie could practically see Ronnie rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. 

“Any girl that shares my taste in music ends up fucking off to the opposite end of the country.” 

This made Ronnie laugh. “You’re an idiot. Paige fucked off back to her job and I fucked off to college.”

“Fucking off is fucking off.”

“Maybe you need to fuck off.”

“I tried, remember?” 

She remembered. Both of them remembered. 

“Look, stop being a dipshit.” Ronnie said after a moment of awkward silence. “You’re graduating this year, right?”

“Uhhh...”

“Eddie.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m working on it. I just need those last stupid two classes and then I’m home free.” Eddie confirmed. 

“You can’t stay in high school forever.” Ronnie said. “And you’re gonna realize that there’s life outside of Hawkins. Have you even talked to Paige since then?”

He hadn’t, and they both knew it. Eddie gave up two months after she’d bailed him out of jail. Two months of dead air silence. He got the hint. 

“No.”

“Then stop worrying about one girl from over two years ago!” Eddie could feel the phantom pain of Ronnie punching him in the arm like she always used to. “Get laid and graduate, Munson. You earned it.”

Eddie snorted, sliding down the fridge to sit on the cool floor. “Is that the only advice you got for me, Ecker?”

“It’s the only advice you need. Did you pass that test last week?” Ronnie asked. 

“By the skin of my teeth.” Eddie sighed, leaning his head back against the fridge. 

“Your new girl graduated, maybe she can help you study.”

“She’s not my girl. She’s a girl that I’ve met a handful of times-”

“That’s turning your brain to mush.” 

“She doesn’t even know who I am, Ronnie.” He fiddled with the chord in his hand, watching the spiral wind and unwind around his fingers. It was already stretched out pretty bad, with a few spirals already tangled beyond repair like his old slinky from when he was a kid. 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ronnie asked. “She doesn’t know you, that means she doesn’t feed into the bullshit of the rumor mill.” 

Ronnie had a point and he hated it, but that’s why he called her to begin with. Ronnie was the only person who could cut through his Munson bullshit and give it to him straight. He missed it. As much as he enjoyed the power he had to protect his little lost sheepies, they were all too intimidated to actually stand up to him and call him out the way that Ronnie would.

“Yeah, you’re right. As usual.” Eddie could hear her snort and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “So why the hell are you even awake right now? Up til 2 am on a school night, Ecker?”

“It’s barely past midnight, the time zone isn’t that off. I was studying for a test, but hearing you complain about your love life is a far more productive use of my time.” 

“You’re using me to slack off, aren’t you?” 

“If I have to look at my flashcards one more time tonight my eyes are gonna go square. How’s Granny doing?”

“She’s an empty nester and is determined to turn me into her replacement grandson until you visit again.” Eddie shook his head. “She threatened to give me a haircut the last time she dropped off a plate for Wayne.”

Ronnie had come back to visit a grand total of five times since she’d left, returning for holidays and summers to visit Granny Ecker and by extension Eddie. Each time she’d come back with stories of law school and how different New York is. 

It seemed impossible, everything that Ronnie had told him about going to college and about life outside their small town. She was playing Dungeons and Dragons still, having found a group that would play with her. According to her, being a rules lawyer for the game at a law school hit way different than it had their small Hellfire group in high school. No one even cared that they played outside of a few students who had better things to do than enact violence against a few nerds. 

Then again, in law school everyone was some sort of nerd. Eddie wondered if even a freak would be accepted there. Well, socially at least. He wasn’t delusional enough to think he’d be able to be accepted into law school with his grades. Ronnie had invited him up to visit a few times, but there was never time or money to do it. 

The two continued talking for another hour, catching up until Ronnie was scolding him for staying up so late on a school night. 

“Yeah? And what’s your excuse?” Eddie said. “It’s almost 4:20 am there.” 

“Ha. Ha. Again, ha.” Ronnie said. “Still not how timezones work. And my first class doesn’t start until noon.”

Right. In college you didn’t have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn every day. 

“Night, Ecker.”

“Night, Munson. Graduate and get laid.” 

“Does it matter the order?”

“Good night, Eddie.”

Talking to Ronnie had eased his nerves, but there was still something inside that wouldn’t let him lay down and go to sleep. It was late now, way later than he intended to stay up tonight. The night he played at the Hideout always had him up late, and his teacher already considered him more useless than usual on Wednesdays. It’s not like anyone would care if he slept in class, unless they were in a particularly foul mood. 

He made his way to a stack of books in his room rummaging through a pile or two until he found what he was looking for. Eddie’s copy of Lord of the RIngs was well loved at best, and completely trashed at worst. The cover of the paperback was nearly torn off, taped back together haphazardly over the years. Pages were dogeared, the spine was cracked, notes were scribbled in the margins, and his name was scribbled in messy cursive on the front page declaring that this book belonged to Eddie Munson and that he was in third grade.

Eddie stripped out of most of his clothes, tossing his jewelry on his nightstand, and hopped into bed. He turned on a small lamp and opened the book. He could probably recite the first chapter from memory if he tried, the words on the page a comfortable lullabye for his wound up mind. But tonight he flipped to a page near the end where his bookmark was. The flower made out of blue construction paper wasn’t nearly as old as the book, and only in better shape because it never left the safe pages of Tolkein’s writing. 

His eyes glanced at his arm again, your phone number a temporary tattoo on his skin until it washed off. Shit, it was going to wash off eventually. Eddie grabbed a pen from under his bed and added another scribble to the inside of the book before copying your number carefully onto the paper flower. At least this way he’d always know where it was. 

With that aside, Eddie didn’t make it through three pages of his book before he passed out with the light still on. 

Fall Semester, 1984

The PrinciPAL’s office was just as interesting and inviting as it always was, which is to say not at all. Eddie was slumped back on a chair, watching as Janice sorted through paperwork, pretending to look busy so that she could avoid any small talk with ‘that Munson boy’. He had been waiting for Higgin’s to show up for almost fifteen minutes now, because why shouldn’t he waste Eddie’s time at this point? The worst that was going to happen today is that they’d do their little song and dance, Eddie would plead his case that the flyers were absolutely serious and that Chris Morrison had every intent to run for student council, and that it was all of the club that had made the posters, Higgins would shake his head and not believe Eddie for a second (which to be fair, this would be the first time that Eddie would admit privately that it was his fault), they’d go back and forth until Eddie got some form of detention or Saturday school. 

Honestly, the worst part would be rescheduling Hellfire if he wound up in detention. 

Eddie had counted out 13 paper clips that Janice had used in her papershifting before the door to the front office opened up again. He looked up, expecting to see Higgins walk in, ignore him for another five minutes, before Janice would let Eddie go in. 

He didn’t expect to see you, pale and shaken, clutching a teacher’s note in your hand. Eddie watched as you handed the note over to Janice who read it, shook her head, and pointed at the chair next to himself. Your eyes never left the floor as you sat next to him, staring at the cheap carpet as if you could somehow burn a hole in it and disappear. 

Trouble was no stranger to Eddie, and Eddie was no stranger to trouble. In Hawkins the name ‘Munson’ might as well be in the thesaurus next to the word. This wasn’t his first rodeo, and it would be far from his last as long as Higgins stayed the princiPAL. He’d walk away with a lecture and a sigh and then it would be business as normal. 

The look on your face though, that was far from the mild annoyance he felt. You look downright traumatized at the idea of having been sent here. Eddie glanced up at Janice who deigned to make eye contact with him now. Her eyes flicked between the two of you, a disapproving look behind her purple frames as if this was somehow Eddie’s fault that you had ended up here as well. But then, as far as any of the faculty from the office was concerned, even him being enrolled at this school was a death sentence to the rest of the poor student body. Eddie was a disease that they would try to contain until they had the cure to remove him. 

The shaking of your knee made your chair (and his chair by proxy) rattle slightly. The quiet of the office and the mundane shuffling of Janice’s papers only added to the tension that was radiating off you. 

“Janice, is Higgin’s gonna be long?” Eddie finally asked, and your bouncing knee stopped for just a moment before going back to its nervous movement. 

“He’s in a very important meeting.” Came the reply over a stack of papers, still not looking at Eddie. 

He sighed again and looked over at you, trying to place where he knew your face. Your eyes were a bit red, and you looked like you were on the verge of crying. Shit, he needed to do something before he had to ask Janice for the tissue box. 

“First time?” Eddie asked, and when you didn’t respond he nudged your knee with his. 

You jumped slightly, head snapping up. It was a wonder you didn’t give yourself whiplash and it would have been almost funny to Eddie had you not looked like a deer in the headlights looking at him. 

“I... Huh?” your voice cracked slightly. 

“What are ya in for?” Eddie did his best to give you a smile which he was sure made him look more like a serial killer than a comfort. It was rare he wished that he had his dad’s smile, but in cases like this he’d make an exception. 

You looked at the paper in your hand and swallowed. “Uh... skipped.” 

“Skipped school or just class?” Eddie prompted, trying to get you to talk more. If you were talking, then you weren’t crying. That’s what he hoped at least. 

“Class.” He didn’t think you’d say anymore but you surprised him. “US History.” Eddie caught the way your eyes darted to Janice again as if to make sure she wasn’t listening in, but Janice had better things to do than to eavesdrop on two delinquents. “I wasn’t... I had a bad day. I'm having a bad day. I felt like I was going to explode and I went to the library.” 

Eddie nodded, wondering what had happened today that made you need to duck out. It wasn’t his business, and frankly Higgin’s was going to grill you enough as it was. 

“Rookie mistake.” He said instead. 

“Rookie...?” 

Eddie kept his voice low and leaned in closer to you as if telling you a secret. “If you’re gonna skip, you can’t go to the library. You might as well have walked into the teacher’s lounge and announced that you were cutting class.”

You let out a sharp breath that he swore counted for a laugh. “Thanks for the heads up, can you tell me that a few hours ago?”

There was color returning to your face now and Eddie kept going. His brown eyes scanned your face, trying to place where he knew you from. Hawkins was a small town, and there was nothing about you that screamed ‘I’m new!’. 

He liked your sarcasm though, and his ‘comforting’ grin shifted into a genuine smile. “If you’re gonna ditch, you need to go to the bathroom or go outside.” He said. “Especially for last period. Go hide outside in the woods and you can slip into the parking lot seamlessly without anyone noticing. By the end of the day the teachers are barely taking attendance anyway.”

“Have you been in the girls rooms here?” you asked, shaking your head. “I think I’d rather take my chances here than stay in there longer than I’d have to.” Eddie wasn’t sure if you were trying to make a joke or if you were serious.

“Would you rather hide in the boys room?” he asked. “I swear it only smells like piss almost all of the time and you’d end up in the splash zone even if you were in a stall.”

That got a laugh out of you, a genuine one. Your shoulders were relaxing and you looked down at the paper again and took a deep breath that you exhaled with a sigh. 

“I’ve never been in trouble before.” you said, your hands starting to bend and fold the paper on your lap absently. “I’m not good at being in trouble.”

“Well, lucky for you I’m here.” Eddie nudged your knee again with his. “Being in trouble is kind of my job here at Hawkin’s High. I’m a professional, you know. If I wasn’t here taking up all of Principal Higgin’s time he might have to actually do his job.” 

That last part was louder, as he directed it to Janice who refused to take the bait and only reached for her lilac stapler instead. 

A small smack on his arm drew his attention back to you, you were smiling at him looking astonished. “You’re gonna get us in trouble!” you whispered at him. 

“We’re already in trouble.” Eddie reminded you, his smile never fading. “Look, you’ve never been in trouble before, right? You’re gonna be fine. Just give him a good sob story about being overwhelmed with school, or about a sick pet. If you can squeeze out some tears that’s even better. The worst that he’s gonna do is give you a slap on the wrist and maybe detention if he’s in a shit mood”

You take in his words, listening to him carefully and taking in every word he was saying as if this was life or death. Eddie admittedly, had purposefully slipped into his Dungeon Master voice. It was a skill that normally only worked on his little sheepies in his club, and that was after semesters of training his players to listen and pay attention to his words or else it would be life or death for their characters. 

Having someone else listen to him like that? It felt really good. 

Your mouth started to open to say something but then the office door opened again and Higgin’s stepped in, nodding to Janice and then looking at the two of you. There was an accusatory look in his eyes as he made eye contact with Eddie again, and it was clear what that look said. Leave her alone, don’t make things worse for her than they already are. 

“Munson.” Higgins said and it took everything in him to stay still and not flinch at his last name. He was used to the weight that came with his name, but he hadn’t wanted you to know who he was. Not after he just remembered where he knew you from, glancing down at the note that you had folded into a flower in a fit of nerves. 

“I heard you missed me, Sir.” Eddie forced his eyes to meet Higgin’s. “You really should just start saying hi in the hallways instead of inviting me to these little chats every week. You’re taking away valuable learning time from me, you know.” 

If the two of them had been alone, Higgins would have snapped back at Eddie about being a smartass. But you were there, and the color had drained from your face again, and there was a shine to your eyes that was threatening to spill over your waterline. Higgins looked at you and motioned for you to follow him into his office. 

Eddie wished that you would turn and look at him before disappearing into the PrincePAL’s office. He could imagine you turning to look at him for comfort, he’d give you a smile that would put you at ease and a thumbs up. You’d give him another smile and walk in feeling brave. 

Instead it was like you forgot he was there as your figure disappeared behind the heavy wood door that shut with a heavy click. 

Of course Higgins had you come in first, even though Eddie had already been sitting here since the beginning of the period when he’d been called in. 

He was tempted to go over to the door and press his ear up against it to listen in on what he was saying to you but even Janice would scold him for that. So there Eddie sat for another ten minutes as he waited for you to step out again. 

Higgin’s was the one to open the door and let you out of the office, as if he were some gentleman instead of Eddie’s own personal warden five days a week. You walked out and to Eddie’s surprise you gave him a nod and mouthed thank you as you slipped back out the door and into the hallway. 

Eddie’s eyes followed you until he couldn’t see you anymore and it took Higgin’s standing in front of him with folded arms and saying his full government name for Eddie to snap back to reality. 

“Munson. A word about your little flyers?”

“Well, I’d say a picture is worth a thousand words-”

“In my office.”

Eddie didn’t remember much else about that talk, only remembering the white paper flower that had been carelessly tossed into the trash next to Higgin’s desk. 

“He still hasn’t called you?” Steve asked as you, him, and Robin continued your closing routine. The day had been busy, with almost everyone in Hawkins coming to rent a movie for the weekend. Robin was stocking the candy while you wiped down the sticky counter where children had been touching all day. Who’s idea was it to leave out free suckers on the counter anyway?

Oh right, that was your idea because you loved Halloween. 

“Nope.” you said, your voice a little tense. It had been almost two weeks since that night at the Hideout. You hadn’t returned to the dive bar, hoping that Eddie would call you and make the next move. Each passing day you had stayed as close to the phone as possible when you were home and you’d checked your voicemail every day when you got home for any sign that he’d attempted to reach out. 

Nothing. 

You shouldn’t feel this rejected but you did. It was far too early to tell if you had any feelings beyond initial attraction to the guy, but... you’d felt something. An enjoyment of bantering with him and an ease that came as naturally as your friendship with Robin and Steve. 

Plus, you had to admit it, he was really fucking hot. Seeing him play guitar two weeks ago had haunted your dreams and slipped into a few of your fantasies when you were alone. 

You kept that part to yourself though, that was the last thing that Steve or Robin needed to hear. Besides, that was Steve’s job to go far too into detail about his sex life. Steve had tried ribbing you about going home with Eddie but you’d told him that you were a complete gentleman with him. 

That night had left you feeling electrified, almost high as you danced around your room as you got ready for bed. Even as his odd parting rattled around your brain, you couldn’t help but to feel excited at the idea of seeing him again. 

Then a few days went by. Then a week. And now two weeks later you hadn’t heard from him. The kids hadn’t stopped by either so you couldn’t hassle them about Eddie either. Even if they had, you weren’t sure if you could ask about him, you didn’t want to come across as desperate. 

“Did you ever figure out what he meant by ‘five times?’” Robin asked, opening up a squished package of Reese's Cups. “Like, didn’t you say you didn’t know him?”

You threw your hands up before tossing the paper towels you were using to clean in the trash can. 

“I have no idea.” you said. “Either I’m bad at math, he’s bad at math, or maybe we’re both stupid.”

“He did get held back a few times.” Steve muttered to himself. 

“There’s a chance that you two have met before though.” said Robin, “I mean think about it, you’re both weirdos who went to the same school. Shouldn’t you both have bumped into each other before?” 

“You’d think so, but my group kind of kept to ourselves.” you said with a sigh. “We were private weirdos. When I DID try and make other friends-”

“Yeah, yeah, Chris Morrison shot you down.” Steve said, waving his hand. 

“Oh, you heard that story?” you laughed. “I didn’t think I mentioned it to you before.”

Steve gave you a blank stare that only made you laugh more. “I swear you keep talking about that guy more than Eddie. Maybe I should track him down and set you up on a blind date with him instead.” 

“Don’t you dare!” 

“Hey, that could be fun!” Robin added. “We’ll dress you up super hot, set you up with Chris, and then you can turn him down instead!” 

“Excuse you, Robin. I am always super hot.” you declared, straightening out your unflattering Family Video vest. “Who wouldn’t want a piece of this?”

You hadn’t done laundry in a week, and your hair had seen better days. The green polyester vest was wrinkled and if Keith saw you looking sloppy he’d probably have words about it. Not big words or even intimidating words, but words nonetheless. It was night and day compared to how you’d looked at the Hideout and the arcade earlier in the month. But it wasn’t like you had anyone to impress while you were at work anyway. 

“Hey, nerdy chicks can be hot.” Steve said. “I mean, Nancy’s an academic nerd and I was crazy about her.” 

You hummed thoughtfully and turned to Robin. “How about we get married instead?” you asked. “You, me, a fuck ton of cats, and a tax break. What do you say?”

Robin laughed and shook her head. “You aren’t my type.” Her eyes darted nervously to Steve for a split second and you sighed dramatically. 

“Guess it’s just me and the cats I’ll eventually adopt.” you said. “Not even a tax break.” 

“You know, Keith thinks you’re cute-”

“I am going to pretend that you did not just say that, Harrington.” you said firmly. “Nope, not happening. Uh-uh. Absolutely not.” 

“He’s not... that bad?” Robin said, but you could hear the pain in her voice through the laughter. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” 

“The lady is trying not to think actually.” you laugh. “We’re closed, I’m actually done thinking. I just wanna finish cleaning up and go home. What’s left?”

“Rewinding the returns,-”

“Ugh.”

“Cleaning up the kids movies,-”

“Ugh.”

“And cleaning the bathroom.”

“UGHHHHHH.” 

“Would you rather clean up the porn room?” asked Robin. 

“Yes actually, I would.” You said. “Whatever they think about doing in that room is what they do end up doing in the bathroom.”

“Gross.”

Steve sighed “Okay, I’ll be the hero and save you ladies from cleaning the bathroom. Robin, you fix the kids section, and you can rewind the tapes.”

“I thought I was in charge here.” You crossed your arms. 

“Okay, did you have a better way to divide and conquer?”

“...No.”

“Then let’s hurry up and-”

Ding!

“Who didn’t lock the door?!” you asked. 

“It was Steve’s job to-” Robin started. 

“Oh, shit. Hi.” Steve was staring at the person who had just walked in. You turned around and your heart jumped in your chest and your stomach dropped. 

“Cursing in front of customers, Harrington?” Eddie said. “Now that’s not very professional of you.”

Robin’s eyes were darting so fast between you and Eddie that you were surprised she wasn’t giving herself vertigo. You tried to give her a pointed glare but your friend either didn’t get the hint or refused to. 

“Well, we’re closed. You can’t be a customer if you can’t pay.” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips. 

Eddie looked away from Steve and made eye contact with you. It had been two weeks since you’d seen him, and you glazed at his arm for a second, trying to see if the faded remains of your phone number were still stamped on his arm. Unfortunately for you he was wearing a heavy leather jacket and you had not yet developed x ray vision. Perhaps in another genre. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie asked and you, ignoring Steve who looked mildly offended. 

You stood there in shock for a second before Robin nudged you in the rib. 

“I- uh. I have to finish closing.” you said, snapping out of it. 

“Steve and I can handle the rest of closing!” Robin grabbed Steve and shook his shoulder. 

“Guys, I’m literally in charge of you both. I can’t leave before you.” You said, already reaching for your bag under the counter. 

“We can handle it!” Steve said. 

“And I can handle Steve!” Robin added. “We close without you and Keith all the time, remember?”

You could trust Robin, and as long as Steve didn’t knock down any displays then it wouldn’t take them more than another ten minutes to finish up. You were so tempted to turn them down, make Eddie wait as you had waited for him for the past two weeks. 

But you were already stepping behind the counter towards Eddie and tossing the keys to lock up to Robin. Keith would murder you and write you up (in that order) if he knew what you were doing but looking up at the roundest pair of brown eyes you’d ever seen had you in the mood to make questionable choices. 

You shrugged off your vest and tossed it at Steve, in an attempt to make yourself look like you hadn’t spent the whole day dealing with unruly customers and screaming kids. Part of you almost wished that you had agreed to bathroom duty, if only to give you an excuse to look in a mirror and straighten yourself out. 

“Thanks, guys.” you gave them a quick nod, catching sight of Robin’s knowing smirk and Steve shaking his head before walking out the door that Eddie was holding open for you. 

The last thing you heard was the scrambling of the entrance to Family Video being locked. 

Part 7

Dividers by @strangergraphics

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[chrollohearttags]

how would carla feel about the sex tape leak?

I told y’all, Carla knows her baby ain’t that bright. That he’s been cutting up since he was a kid and wasn’t gone stop for nothing or no one.

She’s not new to his nonsense and wild scandals. Like the infamous video of him beating a fan’s ass who threw a drink on him or getting arrested for assaulting a pap who decided to get too close but this? This is crazy, even for her son! Mama is out shopping or at brunch with some of the other housewives when she hears people talking about it out of earshot. “Oh my gosh, did you see the tape? Oh they were getting it.” “I know! (social media name) is lucky as hell. I can’t believe she’s fucking EJ the Don. I wonder who leaked it.” And it takes everything in Carla not to lose her shit (and miss thing used to have a temper on her; in case you’re wondering where he gets it from!) while these girls are chatting away, her friends are staring at her like they’re witnessing a ticking time bomb. Now, it’s not the first time she’s had to save face and defend her child in front of others but finding out he’s not only the headlines for fornicating like an untamed beast but he’s now drug you into it?! She’s about to lose her mind. “Did I really just hear that? Please tell me I didn’t just hear that?” He’s sitting in the studio, just talking like everything’s cool with Connie or Onya like usual. Working on some new projects in hopes of taking his mind off of it when he sees that phone ringing and baby, he is too scared to answer. “Nah, go ‘head and answer.” “Yeah, you see your mama calling you, don’t be rude.” Because he already knows..he knows he’s about to get his little skinny ass handed to him on a platter! “Man, fuck y’all. I’m not answering. She’s gonna yell at me, I already know it.” And that’s exactly what happens.

“Eren! I swear to the almighty father, you’re going to put me in an early grave! What in the absolute hell do you think you’re doing? Filming something like that for the entire world to see?! Have you lost your goddamn mind?!” Meanwhile, the other two are snickering and holding in their laughs as she tears him a new one. “Mom, seriously?! You think I’m the one who put it out there? You’re calling me in the middle of work, this is embarrassing.” And that’s all it takes to set sis off because he has no room to talk about that. Not after what she just heard. “Embarrassment?! Oh honey, you wanna know what’s embarrassing? Having a table full of noisy girls and your own friends tell you that your son’s dingaling is all over the internet. How the hell is that for embarrassment?!” Shouting into the speaker and making him jump. But it’s not even the worse part because she’s really mad that you had her precious (y/n) involved. “And now, that poor sweet girl is mixed up in your bullshit. I can’t believe you, Eren. She’s innocent in this.” As if you weren’t the one throwing back on him, begging for it. But he’s not trying to correct her because he knows he’s got an ass whooping waiting the next time she sees him.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 20 - Shiver

@jegulus-microfic February 20 Word count 795

Previous part First part

He didn’t have the capacity to deal with what he’d just witnessed. Nor was he going back to Evan’s room. He did not need to see what they’d gotten up to since he’d left. He’d mention it the next time he saw one of them. 

As soon as he was free of the wards, he apparated home. The house was silent, empty, and lonely. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he headed up to his bedroom. The pressing quiet of the building amplifying every creak of the stairs. 

Once he was settling down to sleep, he pulled out Sirius’s walkman from the magically expanded bag Sirius had charmed so he could take all the music with him and hopefully not get caught with it when he left the safe house. He put the earphones over his head and pressed the big, clunky play button. 

David Bowie’s Prettiest Star began playing into his ears. He picked out the empty cassette case of the album and traced the lighting bolt meticulously painted onto Bowie’s face. It seemed, a bit odd, a lightning bolt on a face, but Regulus couldn’t take his eyes off the way it popped against Bowie’s almost translucent skin. 

He woke with the morning sun shining across his face, not recalling having fallen asleep, Aladdin Sane still playing. Sirius had charmed the Walkman so it would play both sides of the tape repeatedly unless turned off. 

He lay there and let a few more songs play before he got up. He needed to contact James and give him the notebook. Reading back through everything, he felt like there was a key element that they were missing, something important to do with Voldemort. 

He showered and changed. Then, went down to the kitchen in search of breakfast. When he was sated, he headed into the library and pulled out the mirror. He flicked the clasp open,

“James?” He called into it. Moments later, James’s face appeared.

“Hi, love. You okay?” He asked. Regulus nodded. 

“Yeah. I’ve got some important information that I’ve collected and a favour to ask you. But it needs to be in person.” He got straight to the point. 

“You’ve got stuff already. It’s barely been 24 hours Reg.” James replied, shocked. “I’ll have to talk to Moody about a meeting place and get back to you. Give me a few hours, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He smiled back at James. 

In the end, it took three days to arrange a secure meeting place for the pair of them to meet. Regulus had spent his days bored. He couldn’t go snooping around Voldemort for new information as it would be suspicious. He’d have to wait until he was summoned. So he spent his time flicking through some of the books in his family’s library. He found a particularly interesting one on the darkest of dark arts. There was stuff in there even his parents wouldn’t touch. He’d gotten halfway through it when the call came.       

He walked into the building, and there was James. James was right there. All rational thought left him. He ran forward and leapt into his arms, wrapping his legs around his waist as he held him tight. He buried his face in the warmth and security of James’s chest. 

“Hi,” He mumbled, his voice muffled by James’s shirt. 

“Well, hello.” James chuckled at him and stroked his back, which sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine. 

He clung there for long minutes. Eventually, James moved and went to sit on one of the two chairs in the middle of the room after he realised that Regulus was not going to let go. 

Regulus repositioned himself so that he was sat in James’s lap with his legs on one side and his head resting on his shoulder. He hadn’t realised how much he’d needed to be close to James. 

“I hate this.” He whispered. “I hate not being with you every day.” He moved his head back so he could look into James’s eyes. “Are we going to be together?” He asked. “I mean, after the war? Will—Will you still want me?” He felt vulnerable, but he needed to know. Know that there was a future for them, that he wasn’t fighting for nothing. 

James’s arms wrapped around him a little tighter. 

“Is that what you want?” He asked quietly. Regulus nodded profusely, hoping he could convert how much he truly wanted a life with James. “You’ll have to deal with Sirius on a daily basis. I’m not kidding. He will be around all the time.” 

“Okay. I can deal with that if it means I get you.” Regulus smiled as he tucked his head back into the hollow at James’s neck. 

“So what’s this favour you wanted to ask?” 

Next part

[fake-sturniolos]

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬

pt2

SYNOPSIS:  a hopeless romantic teen attempts to secure a happily-ever-after moment with her forever crush, but finds herself reluctantly drawn to the boy next door.

WARNING: none!

word count: 1,722

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 'ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇꜱ'

I've wanted love since I was old enough to spell the word 'love', probably because of my mom's obsession with romcoms. I would watch romcoms with my mom all the time; it was our thing. We would get snacks, snuggle up on the couch, and binge all of her favorites. When she passed away, what I inherited was the knowledge that love is perpetually present, always a potentiality, and eternally worthwhile.

I walked out of my house in a relatively good mood, only to be met with the sight of the person who annoys me most in this world, Matt Sturniolo. He was standing in front of my car with a grin on his face. Well, that couldn’t be good. I shut the door behind me and pretty much ran at him. “What are you doing near my car.”

Matt just shrugged, giving me a smirk.

"What's in your hand?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said, putting his hand behind his back.

i rolling my eyes at him. "What did you do to my car?"

“technically i didn't do anything to your car”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He gave me a grin before saying, "Well, this has been fun, but I've gotta run.”

"Matt—" I began, but he turned around and walked back to his house as if our conversation hadn't just happened. I sighed and turned back to my car to see what he could have done to it.

Matt and I have an ongoing battle over who gets the parking spot, though he typically wins because he cheats. It's become a game of wits between us, each of us trying to outsmart the other in our quest for the coveted spot. But no matter how hard I try, it seems like Matt always has the upper hand.

I sighed and got into my car, only to find a parking ticket taped to the middle my windshield. Great.

I walked into school with 'Florida Kilos' playing in my headphones. I entered my first-period class and took the only available seat next to Lacy Johnson. Lacy is a high-class bitch, but there's no denying that she's gorgeous. We both grew up in the same neighborhood and hung out with the same kids. And every time we were together, she would find some way to call me weird or insult me in any way possible. It was like she had a radar for my insecurities and took pleasure in poking at them

“Nice dress, y/n," Lacy said, looking over at me.

I gave her a fake smile. "Thanks."

I pulled my phone out of my bag to see a text from my best friend, Audrina.

From Audrina:

You will not believe what I found out

To Audrina:

Spill

From Audrina:

You're not gonna want to be in class when I tell you, so meet me after

The bell rang, and I rushed out of class to our lockers. Audrina showed up right as I did.

"Okay, before I tell you, promise me you won’t freak out," she said.

"I can’t promise anything."

Before she could say anything, I glanced behind her and saw no one other than Tristan Parker walking in my direction. Audrina noticed the look on my face and turned around.

"Well, there it is," she said.

Tristan Parker was my childhood crush. He lived in my neighborhood and hung out with me and the few other kids on our block (Me, Matt, Audrina, Lacy, and a few other kids.) Till one day he moved to South Carolina. I never thought I would see him again but here he is.

“Y/N?” Tristan's voice jolted me out of my daydream, his gentle tone drawing me back to reality.

“Tristan?” I responded, my lips curling into a smile as I met his gaze.

In a heartbeat, he closed the distance between us, enveloping me in a warm embrace that felt like home. I felt my stomach flip. Oh my God.

All of a sudden, I feel someone bump into me, and I turn around to see Matt. Of course, if anyone was going to ruin this moment, it would be him.

“Matt!” I exclaimed, turning to face him. “You should really watch where you're going,” I said with a fake smile.

"‘Yeah, so sorry.” he said sarcastically, then turned to look at Tristan.

“Tristan!” he exclaimed, reaching out to dab him up.

“You were right about the biology teacher.” Tristan said.

“Yeah, she's a real bitch.” Matt grinned.

I watched as Tristan laughed. I tried to contain my smile, but it was useless.

“Relax, you're drooling all over yourself” Audrina whispered to me. I had pretty much forgotten she was standing there.

“You know Michael White, right?” Matt asked Tristan.

“Of course.”

“Well, he's having a party tonight. Would you be down to go?”

“Yeah, sounds good” Tristan replied.

“Alright, cool. I'll text you the details. But I gotta go. If I'm late one more time, I'm cooked.” he said, then turned and walked the other direction.

Tristan turned his attention back to me “I've gotta go too” he said “But we'll catch up later?”

I nodded eagerly, feeling a sense of anticipation bubbling within me. “Definitely” I replied, my heart skipping a beat as he flashed me a brief but warm smile before walking off.

Audrina sighed. “Don’t get too excited. I heard he's been talking to Lacy Johnson.”

I felt like someone had just punched me in the face. Why her? I didn’t get it. I couldn’t comprehend how someone like Lacy, who seemed to effortlessly have everything handed to her, could possibly be vying for the attention of the same guy I wanted. I couldn’t bear the idea of seeing the perfect guy for me end up with someone like her.

"I mean, they aren't official. I still have a shot,” I said, trying to reassure myself.

“Please don’t be that girl,” she said, giving me a pleading look.

Her words struck a chord within me, a reminder of the line I was treading. Did I really want to be that girl, the one who clung onto hope despite the odds?

I swallowed hard, the weight of my indecision heavy in my chest. "I won’t." I promised, though the words felt hollow even to my own ears.

Matt had beaten me to the parking spot, leaving me no choice but to park around the block and trek home through the pouring rain. As I reached my doorstep, a sudden realization struck me. If I could persuade Matt to take me to the party, it could be my ticket to getting closer to Tristan. I turned on my heel and headed next door, where I knocked on Matt's door. After a few moments, he opened it slightly, a bemused grin on his face.

“Well, well, well,” he chuckled, taking in my drenched appearance. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

I rolled my eyes, feeling the chill of the rain lingering on my skin. “I need to talk to you.”

His eyebrows raised in mock suspicion. “Why? Planning to exact your revenge?”

“Matt, just let me in,” I pleaded, my patience wearing thin.

From behind him, I heard his mother's voice. “Matt, stop teasing and let the poor girl in.”

“I think she's here to assassinate me,” Matt joked

“Hi, Mary Lou.” I said smiling at her.

“Hello, y/n. Come inside before you catch a cold,” she said kindly, ushering me into the warmth of their home.

“Thanks, Mary Lou,” I said gratefully

Mary Lou smiled warmly. “Of course, dear. Let me grab you a towel to dry off,” she said before disappearing into another room.

Left alone with Matt, I couldn't help but feel a pang of nervousness creeping over me. What if he refused to help me? What if my plan to get to the party and see Tristan up close fell apart before it even began?

Mary Lou returned with a fluffy towel, and with a grateful smile, I accepted it, quickly drying myself off as best as I could. Matt gestured for me to follow him, we made our way to the cozy living room, where the soft glow of lamps cast a warm, inviting ambiance.

As we settled onto the comfortable couch, I couldn't shake the nervous flutter in my stomach. Matt leaned back, his expression curious yet attentive. “So, spill it,” he prompted, his eyes fixed on mine.

“okay so I need your help.” I said meeting his gaze

he smiled “and why would I help you?”

“i have an offer for you.” I said clearing my throat “you will get full access to the parking spot for the duration of our deal.”

he looked back at me with a shocked expression “your giving me THE parking spot?”

I sat back and nodded.

“Deal.”

“What? You don't even know what I want you to do yet.”

“Whatever it takes, I'll do it.”

“Okay, but you have to swear that you won’t tell anyone or give up halfway. If you do, the deal is off.”

“I swear. Now, tell me.”

I looked at something other than his face. “I want to get close with Tristan.”

“And you want me to help with that how?”

“Well, since he's going to the party, I was hoping you could take me with you, so I could talk to him.”

He nodded. “So you want to get with Tristan, and you want me to take you with me to the party so you can get him to like you?” he said, scanning my face.

“Pretty much.”

“Isn’t he interested in Lacy?”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry about that.”

He smiled. “How scandalous of you, Buxbaum.”

“Shut up.” I said smiling back "Alright, so here's the plan," leaning in closer to Matt. "You'll invite me to the party as your plus one, and once we're there, you'll introduce me to Tristan. From there, I'll work my magic."

Matt raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Your magic, huh? Should I be worried?"

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but laugh. "Just trust me, okay? I'll handle it."

After exchanging numbers to discuss Tristan after, we agreed that he would pick me up at 7.

"Alright, you've got yourself a deal."

ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ɪᴛ! ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ʟᴀᴜɴᴀ

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Yay fellow aroace!

I love cute moments too! Yours are so adorable as well!

So uhm… maybe a little sis annabeth being protected / being taken care of by her older cool sis?

I loved the punk Jason concept as well so maybe something similar? Thank you so much if you do this!

And yeah! Byeee

🖤🩶🤍💚

Thanks so much for this ask even though it's been sitting in my inbox for centuries lol I have so many asks and little motivation but this one was so close to done, that's why the endings a little rushed &lt;3

Bite me, bitch boy--- Annabeth Chase/Protective older sister!reader

»»————-　★　————-««

-Annabeth got to camp when she was seven. She became the cabin counselor at nine. 

-Who in their right mind let a literal baby be in charge of eight bossy, snarky, far too intelligent and prideful demigods? Who said, ‘you know what this cabin needs? A child to run it!’

-It was safe to say that when you got to camp at fifteen years old and soon after got shoved into a wooden cabin full of unorganized folders and sheets of paper and books, with three toothbrushes [eight kids???] and a mini fridge with literally nothing in it, you had something to say.

-Specifically to Chiron, who reassured you that you could of course speak with the cabin counselor about how the children of Athena were living, once she got back from her quest.

-Oh, so maybe there was a proper leader here, they were just away. That made sense, they’d be smart, and obviously knew what they were doing. That shut you up for a few days, and put up with the fact there were no lights out and your little brother hadn’t showered in two weeks. 

-Then a scrawny, angry at the world, little girl came back with swinging braids and far too sharp a knife for a twelve year old, carting behind her a traumatized school boy and a very hungry goat.  

-Your expectations took a dip.

-After your new little sister was tucked into bed and you finally figured out how to threaten your siblings into shutting their books and going to sleep [Spiders, spiders were the key.], you marched straight back to Chiron and demanded a union.

-You didn’t get one. 

-So instead you did some spring cleaning. While your siblings were out showing off their wits and picking strawberries, you stacked up every piece of paper in the cabin and threw out all the random things from three years ago, organizing everything away neatly into the bookshelves and filing cabinets no one had thought to use yet. A deep clean began, and you probably held up the laundry near the infirmary for a good four hours. 

-You found an old cork board in the stables that Butch [he was nice, even if he only talked about Pegasi and a comic called Heartstopper] let you take, and pinned up everyone schedules on it, instead of where they had been washi taped to the bathroom mirror. One of your brother's school reports appeared in the mini fridge as well, so that got pinned up too. 

-Said mini fridge was filled with water and strawberries that Malcom brought back, along with mud that got tracked through the fluffy rug you’d exchanged with Silena for the third volume of Butch’s comic. 

-Annabeth glared at you with those stormy eyes that everyone in the cabin shared. 

-Apparently, as the head counselor of the Athena cabin, she was supposed to be the one doing all the things you’d done, and she did not appreciate your disrespect for the rules or her position.

-Once she found the wafer biscuits in the minifridge you’d grabbed from the camp store after Katie got one of the old ipods you’d brought with you to camp after finding out about the wifi rule, she calmed down a little.

»»————-　★　————-««

-Annabeth was fuming.

-How dare you just… come into her cabin and take over?

-How come all her other siblings didn’t seem to mind that you had this one really cool tattoo on your thigh and seemed to be allowed to just wander into the camp store and take stuff, because apparently Katie owed you something and the Athena cabin got free wafers?

-And somehow Clarrise decided not to dunk your head in the toilet on your first day [Percy was unhappy about that as well, but seaweed belonged in water anyway. He didn’t like that comment either.] because something about Silena and hearts stopping? 

-Annabeth was supposed to be in charge, and now you were going to the camp counselor meeting instead and forcing Annabeth to lay in bed all day with a box of tissues because a temperature of forty degrees wasn’t normal. You even brought back a bag of those cheetos that the Stolls always dug up for meetings for her. 

-It sucked.

-So she decided to let some of her anger out in the form of beheading each and every dummy propped up in the arena. 

-Stuffing was scattered around on the sandy floor and Annabeth could feel beads of sweat on her dark skin. Her knife was flecked with the blood that beaded on her palm after clenching her knife too tightly for too long.

-A few Iris kids were casting rainbow mists that faded into droplets of poison on the other side of the arena, and she was careful to avoid them as she whipped around and got one of the dummies in the back of the neck, which would kill any normal person not sewn together by a bored teenager.

-Of course the sawdust billowing up wasn’t helping her stuffy nose or unfocused eyes because actually that dummy’s torso looked like a great pillow but then she was tearing out its insides because she wasn’t sick. 

-She refused to let you be all cool and right and big sister-y because Annabeth was in charge, she didn’t need a big sister to make her hot chocolate before bed when she had to finish a model for Hecate's new potion shop on Olympus and take spiders out of the bathroom because somehow you didn’t find then as absolutely terrifying as the rest of them did.

-The braid that hit her cheek felt like a spider leg in that moment and Annabeth fell back with a yelp, pulling all her hair behind her shoulders and breathing hard, her glinting knife near her feet.

-It was shiny and metallic and there were spider legs and then she was running, sprinting and puffing and following that arachnid-like robot from Hephaestus through the Labyrinth before they all lost it and got stuck walking in circles and circles and circles with spider legs crawling over her skin that were in her lungs-

-Shit. 

-Deep breaths, that was all she needed to do. Annabeth pushed a fist to her chest and rolled her shoulders back, trying to blink away the image of the metallic spider crawling over her shoe.

-There was a cackle of laughter and she righted herself. She wasn’t sick. She wasn’t scared. And she was not going to be laughed at. 

-She turned but her braids were still touching her and they were crawling over her and she couldn’t breathe because the spiders were on her but she wasn’t scared and she would not be laughed at and her knife fell out of her hand and-

-”If you don’t leave right now, I’m rostering you all on for clean up duty in the kitchens tonight, and I’m telling Butch it was you guys who let Olive and Clover out onto the lava wall!” 

-”He won’t believe you, and you can’t boss us around, newbie!” Someone yelled, and Annabeth pulled all of her hair back, a gray streak in the corner of her was tucked behind her ear. She felt like throwing up when the heat washed over her skin, prickly as a cactus. 

-”Bite me, bitch boy!” You snapped, and there was a clanging of metal and then a yelp.

-Silence filled the arena as Iris kids shuffled out, but Annabeth lost track of them a moment later because there was four of them and then eight and then twelve and then it hurt her head too much to count and suddenly there was two of you marching up,a shiny spear speckled with poison rainbow droplets. 

-You dropped the spear and Annabeth couldn’t see much else because everything was grainy and full of static and the heat on her dark skin was crawling with spiders and itchiness.

-Annabeth stepped forwards, the ground coming a lot closer to her face than she planned. 

-She gulped down a cry of pain and squinted up at you, then tried to tell you to fuck off, because she wasn’t sick. It only came out as a pathetic mumble, and she lay limp, glaring up at you foggily.

-You smiled, and Annabeth tried to take it patronizingly so she could continue hating you. But it wasn’t patronizing, even when you spoke softly, “Come on, let’s get you back in bed.”

-Annabeth huffed as she was carried out, “Mnuhsick.”

-“Percy and that funny goat boy are waiting.” Your smile was patronizing then. “They brought Hidden Figures and Legally Blonde.” 

-“Msick.”

-“That’s what I thought.” 

»»————-　★　————-««

[octopiys]

Please please elaborate on the 141 x OldGuardau!reader

Oh my God hello OK I got u

The Old Guard is a Netflix movie about a group of people who are essentially born in different parts of time, and can die but get resurrected and stuff like that like the original post said, except the movie has more than one person. All of these people are born around historical events (dawn of time, witch trials, reign of terror) and are drawn to find each other and work as a team to not get caught by scientists or governments or anything like that, all while doing what they believe is best to protect the world.

Now for Reader, it's no small feat. If it's only themselves as an Immortal on this team (there's so much red tape around these operations including them) then it's okay. Reader is an asset to the military, and a powerful one at that.

Or maybe the reader is a newer immortal. Maybe they don't know they're immortal until an op goes bad, and they've been shot, bleeding out into an alleyway, their blood mingling with the water. Maybe their Lieutenant is aside them, doing everything within his power to keep them from bleeding out, but the wound is too bad. And in the rain, maybe they even die.

But with a gasp, they're awake again, and the young Lieutenant John Price is shocked. Baffled. No, there's not even a word for how he feels. His sergeant's wounds are knitting together after they died, and he knew they died because he witnessed it himself. He felt their pulse give out.

Now both Reader and Price are terrified. If Reader can't die, what'll happen then? He wants to radio it in to their captain, or the general, but Reader begs him not to.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, a war is brewing. Most top governments have heard whispers about a man called Kingfish, one who was so battle worn, so ruthless, so victorious, that he could topple governments by just stepping foot into their building. Rumors spread of no bullet able to pierce his flesh, like he was the Roman God of War himself.

Now, the United States doesn't believe in rumors until they've witnessed it firsthand. Little do they know, they already have.

Kate Laswell may only be a Station Chief, but she's damn good at her job. She knows her kind when she hears it, and recently there's been a shift. Like a sixth sense, she calls John.

And just like that, she knows. The next immortal is here, and with them, comes war.

Years pass, and tensions are rising between the East and the West. Price has even become captain, and scored himself a team and an odd one at that.

Of course, there's Reader. They've always been there first. A little more frazzled as time goes on, but still good. Yeah, still good.

Then joins Simon Riley. They call him the Ghost. This is reader's best bet for another immortal. Laswell has a few arguments against it, but has never outright denied the claim. But how metal is it that he clawed his way out of his own grave? That's immortal material if I've ever heard of it.

Then Kyle Garrick. They call him Gaz. Don't ask why. He's a bright thing, and a wicked sense of humor. He used to be on another force, but after an event, Price handpicked him to be on the task force. He's one of Reader's best friends. They wish he was immortal too.

Finally, came John MacTavish. He was younger than Gaz by at least a few months, making him the youngest on the 141, and Reader always held it over him. He had a fancy for pyrotechnics too, and a hell of a swear to him.

Maybe a few missions go by. Maybe more than that. They still can't get used to seeing Reader lifeless with a bullet in between their eyes, or a knife to the gut, or a grenade blown too close. Wounds heal quicker, but not if they're lethal. Yet the scars never show on their skin by the time the boys are able to pull them out of there. Reckless, maybe, but Reader's saved their asses more times than they could count.

The war rages on.

Kingfish's power grows in the East, and the task force grows wary. Even with Laswell's advice, there was still a guarantee that they'd be sent out to the front when it got bad enough, take out the threat. But the rumors have grown.

Kingfish cannot die.

And Laswell knows.

Kingfish has gone by many names throughout the centuries. His first, Emperor Nero, causing the fall of the entire Roman empire. After he faked his death, he worked from the sidelines. He slayed the last Byzantinian Emperor, he broke through the walls of Constaninople. The Reign of Terror: an advisor, and a trusted one at that. Now, the urge had resurfaced, and he took on a new name once more.

Vladimir Makarov. Kingfish.

Or, the entire team is immortal. Laswell knows about all of them. Ghost knows enough. Reader knows... Somewhat. But nobody else does. Frankly, nobody's given a thought to dying to find out. And until that tunnel, no one had even tried.

The scream is tearing out of reader's throat before Soap even hits the ground, Price still incapacitated, concussed. Reader does not care about the bomb. Ghost doesn't either. They're both there, checking for vitals as they panic, blood spilling out of his wound, as Gaz hoists Price to his feet and they go to disarm the bomb.

They find nothing within Soap. Absolutely nothing. Reader feels cold washing over the room, like they can't breathe. Like a numbness that consumed everything. Soap- If Soap went now... then it could be Gaz, or Price next. Ghost, Reader couldn't even think about. It seemed impossible. And it occurred to Reader that they didn't sign up for this. No dying, compared to anyone and everyone around you perishing in the blink of an eye. They used to be okay with it. And Soap was gone in an instant.

They're dragging him out in a hurry, and the faintest sound is pulled from his lips. It seems Laswell knew more about them all than she let on.

They get caught up in other enemies as Soap peels himself off the floor. They weren't gonna just let Makarov escape, they couldn't. They knew what he could do.

Price told Reader not to go after him. Not alone.

But Reader can't risk losing any more friends. Even if Soap did end up being okay. If something happened to Price or Gaz, they wouldn't be able to live with it.

But they would have to.

So Reader runs. They tear after him like a bat out of hell, taking bullet after bullet, felling each person who fired one. They reach the top of the stairs and launch themself at him, before a gun goes off.

Reader felt it go straight through their side in a searing hot blaze, knowing that this time, something was different. Something was wrong.

The comm was yanked out of their ear and smashed beneath a boot.

The wound they sustained wasn't that bad, in the grand scheme of things. Their vision darkens at the edges, like it does when these things happen, and before reader can close their eyes, a face fills their vision.

"Not as strong now, are you, little one?" The thick curl of Makarov's Russian lilt finds its way into their ears, as the sharp pounding fire in their side grows worse. Despite the woozy fight they put up, Reader is restrained, unable to call for help. The van comes into view as Price bursts out of a window behind them, barreling towards the group, Ghost in high pursuit.

They disappear behind the van's doors as they close, and as Reader's vision dampens more, they wonder why their bullet wound hasn't healed yet.

im so down to completely info dump on this, whether it be more details towards the story, or individual characters like reader or ghost or laswell or anything like that I fucking love the old guard

[amplifyme]

This may never be completed, but I'm posting it here. Because the muse wants me to. Since she's been so quiet all these months, if she's decided to drop in now and make this edict, I'm gonna listen.

The beginnings of a One Breath fic, aka my albatross...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pause. Rewind. Play. “We should stop.” A hand moving up a glossy white inner thigh. Breathy sighs. Fast-forward. Play. The hand now wedged at the apex between her legs, large male knuckles clearly pressing up beneath the obscenely short skirt she wears, manipulating the hidden treasure there.

The ringing of the phone pulls him from this latest repetition of his bedtime routine. He’s compiling a list of his favorite parts, so he knows what to skip to the next time this tape graces his VCR. He’ll know those jagged segments by heart soon. Then he’ll be able to pull them up and zone out enough to maybe sleep.

He pauses the tape and stretches to reach the phone. He greets his caller with dull indifference. “Yeah?”

There’s a hitch of breath on the other end, soft and feminine, and he drags himself up until he’s sitting. “Hello?”

“Fox, is that you?”

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds before his synapses start to fire with something resembling clarity and he recognizes the voice. “Mrs. Scully?”

“Fox, it’s Dana. She’s back. They’ve brought her back.”

His heart gives a great thud, stops for an instant, and then begins to thump crazily in his chest. He breaks out in a sweat, stammers, “Wha-wha where? Where is she? How-?”

“Northeast Georgetown. In the ICU. I’m with her now.”

“I’m on my way.”

It’s not until he reaches the car that it occurs to him: he has no coat, no badge, no cellphone, just his wallet and keys. He scrapes a dusting of snow from the window of the driver’s door with his arm and slides behind the wheel. He doesn’t remember the drive to the hospital when he tries to recall it later. He doesn’t remember anything from when he first arrives at her hospital bed, except that Scully’s eyes are taped shut and she’s covered in wires and tubes. Her mother’s face reflects anger and worry, bewilderment: the sum total of unanswered questions. He sucks it all into his lungs like rarified air and shouts them out in her stead. 

Why. How. When. What’s happened to her? Who did this to her?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“She doesn’t want to live in this condition.”

He hadn’t given it more than a glancing thought when she’d asked him to sign as witness to her living will shortly before the X-Files division had been shut down. It was just a formality, and more paperwork to sign off on and forget. Nothing that might possibly come back to bite him on the ass. Just a throw-away.

He forces himself to meet Maggie Scully’s eyes. He’s to blame for this. Because his easy acquiescence to what seemed a simple request has morphed into an ill-advised edict to allow her to die. How is he to carry on with this knowledge? Scully is not, and could never be, a throw-away anything.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I’ve been told not to call you Fox.”

Melissa Scully is not at all what he had imagined, and he takes umbrage at her new age methods, since her sister clearly can’t.

“I need to do more than just wave my hands in the air.” His arm drops to his side, and he turns away. But try as he might, the first words Melissa said to him ring in his ears with proof of something beyond his comprehension.

He turns back and belatedly rebukes her. “She never talked about you,” He doesn’t understand why he feels the need to strike out at her. But someone has to pay the price.

“Probably not,” Melissa responds with an enigmatic smile. “But she talks a lot about you.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“You don't believe... but you want to. You want to believe more than ever.”

He ignores her and goes in search of their mother. Her pain, he understands.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Frohike, in a fucking penguin suit and bearing flowers. Branched DNA, a biological poison, and “Mulder, there’s nothing you can do.”  

A gun shoved in his face by a man who is supposed to be his ally. “You got him killed! You got her killed. That’s not going to happen to me.” A different man dead in a basement laundry room, killed execution style.

“I don’t think you have the heart.” It’s a dismissal, a taunt.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

No sleep. And he’s so fucking tired. He hasn’t had more than four consecutive hours of sleep since she was taken. No food. Not for as long as he can remember, though his belly is as hollow as his bones. Time has lost meaning. He only leaves her bedside when he has to. The Scully women take their turns while he’s there but don’t seem to have the stomach for his urgently whispered arguments to run just a few more tests, give it just one more day, don’t give up – it’s too soon.

But she’s running out of time and the Scully women are busy in the hospital chapel or covertly waving burning sticks of incense, biding their own time. All three of them are preparing for the change to come. But he feels like the only one who’s fighting for that change to be Scully opening her eyes and coming back where she belongs. He won’t give up, no matter what it costs him. She wouldn’t give up on him.

He has the insane notion to ask Maggie Scully for permission to marry her daughter. If he’s Scully’s husband, maybe he can call the shots. Maybe he can guarantee her more time.

He is falling, falling, falling, and there is no bottom, no end point. The black hole surrounding him has jagged walls that are slick with blood from earlier battles, and he can’t grasp onto anything with enough friction to slow him down.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Karen Ann Quinlan is not a name he wants invoked. The thought of Scully remaining in this condition is distasteful, horrific. How could anyone want that for her? So why can’t he just accept the facts and let her go?

“She was a good soldier, Mulder, but there’s nothing you can do to bring her back.”

Her doctor, portly, balding, and resistant to anything outside the norm, rankles him. Everything does. Even the air he breathes is inhaled with a sense of resentment at its necessity. The worse it gets, the more inwardly absent he becomes, until he feels he’s outside himself. Nothing more than a helpless observer of this unfolding tragedy.

“Dana has made our decision.”

He vacillates between anger and grief, both cutting too painfully deep. Between acceptance of the facts and the rejection of them, so clinical and cold. Who is he fighting for? It is for her, or his need for her? Scully has respected him, always, as he has her. But this, this is too much to ask. And underneath it all, his ceaseless, immeasurable rage, and the need for retribution.

“Fox,” Mrs. Scully stands and readies to push through the swinging doors and over a threshold that can’t be uncrossed, solidifying the decision her words made clear. “This is a moment for the family. But you can join us if you want.”

No, no I can’t, he thinks. I won’t.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He decides this must be the apex of his anger. At least now it has a focus. That black-lunged sonofabitch is responsible for all of this. He’s certain of it. He offers himself up to Skinner, a willing sacrifice of everything he has left in exchange for his shot at vengeance. Justice. Justice. That’s all he wants. Time is running out.

Why? Why? How did this happen? How could he let this happen?

He stops short on his way out the door, sudden clarity blinding him in its accusation. It’s my fault, too. Skinner is honest enough to concur when he voices his fears, and Mulder is stunned.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

No. This is the apex. This is the source of the fire scorching him from the inside out. This man at the end of a gun barrel in this drab and empty room, cloaked in plumes of smoke. Cigarette Man is the one who has to pay. Otherwise, there is no justice.

“Why her? Why her and not me? Answer me!” His finger is steady on the trigger. Four and a half pounds of pressure is all it will take to paint the walls with brain matter. He wants to light the world on fire. Burn it all down. Rebuild a new one from the ashes. A world where Scully is safe. A place where his sister isn’t gone.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Big Wheel: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Summary: The case you’re on is dependent on a little boy who is blind who sees with more than just his eyes.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

"In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present." - Francis Bacon

You carefully fold the piece of paper into a triangle and continue folding this piece of paper until you've created your very own cootie catcher. You open the four flaps and write two things on each so that each response is different. While JJ is getting the briefing room set up, you're having a bit of fun beforehand.

"What are you doing?" Spencer asks.

"Making a cootie catcher. Wanna play?"

"How? What do you do?"

You roll over to his desk with a smile and set up the game in front of him. On the front are different shades of color he can pick from.

"Pick a color."

"Green."

You move the cootie catcher five times and open it further to reveal the numbers you've written.

"Okay, pick a number."

"Seven."

You open that number flap and read what you've written there.

"You're going to get a gift from someone who loves you."

"Is that gift going to come from you?"

"If you're lucky," you smirk and kiss him quickly.

"Is that a cootie catcher?" Emily gasps and bounces her way over. "I haven't played that game since I was a child."

"Alright, pick a color," you smirk and start the game over.

"Blue!"

You move it four times.

"Now pick a number."

"Two."

You open the flap and reveal what's been written.

"There is a surprise waiting for you at home."

"Unless it's from my cat, I don't think there will be," she laughs.

"Briefing room, five minutes," Hotch calls from above.

"Sorry, Derek, you'll get your turn next time," you say and put away your toy.

"I don't think I want a turn," he chuckles.

The team moves the small party into the briefing room where Hotch, Rossi, and JJ already are. Once everyone is settled in, JJ puts a picture of a young woman on the screen.

"Her name's Michelle Watson who was a realtor murdered in Buffalo a week ago. Until yesterday, they didn't have any leads until they got this."

JJ plays a video of someone inside a bathroom. They must be holding the camera in front of them because you can't see who the person is, just what's in front of them. He turns the sink on and off and shows that the mirror is covered with duct tape. He leaves the bathroom and goes outside where there is an unsuspecting couple by their car who don't seem alarmed that they're being filmed.

"Buffalo PD received it from an unknown source yesterday."

"Were they able to trace it?"

"No. It was sent through an encrypted server from Ukraine."

"There's no sound."

"Yeah, at first glance, there doesn't seem to be a single frame to identify who shot it. He even covered up the mirror."

"I've seen some crazy things sitting at this table, but that... Why send that to the police?" Penelope asks.

"Maybe it's a taunt to show the police how smart he is. You know, catch me if you can sort of thing."

"The two people in the video look directly at the unsub, and neither one seems to register that they're being filmed. It could be a hidden camera."

"The witnesses were able to give us enough for a sketch." JJ passes around papers of what the unsub looks like. "He's a white male in his early thirties that wears glasses."

The video switches from the couple outside to a dark room with a bunch of editing software. There is a computer and some editing tech that the unsub uses to edit his murder videos. There is something playing on the computer screen, but you're unsure of what.

"It looks like an editing suite," you say. "Not only does he film the murder, he edits it. Do we know what's playing on the monitor?"

"Buffalo PD is concerned that it might be another filmed killing."

"If it is, then we're not looking at just one murder but two," Emily says.

"Buffalo is underfunded, undermanned, and they need our help."

"Buffalo's a big gang town. Over seven hundred people were murdered in the last year alone."

"Garcia, I need you to go through this frame by frame and put everything on disks."

"Yes, sir. I'm on it."

Penelope gets up to leave but Hotch stops her.

"Also, put together a go bag. If we get any more of these films, I want you on the ground taking point. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes, sir. Excellent." She walks away but you hear what she mutters to herself. "I don't have a go bag."

"Okay, fast forward. There's something I want everyone to see," Hotch says.

JJ forwards the video to a specific point where the unsub grabs a red marker to write something on the wall.

HELP ME.

He wants to be stopped but can't on his own.

"Wow, a serial killer asking for help. That's a new one for me."

"What if he's sincere?"

"Then he's deeply ambivalent."

"He wants to stop, but like an alcoholic, he simply can't. When we see him driving, his point of view is elevated. I'd say he's driving a van or an SUV. The film stops where it starts--at his home. We can use the film to trace back street by street from the crime scene, right?"

"It only lasts nine minutes. In this frame, he clearly looks at a clock, and it's 9:22 AM."

"Michelle's time of death was four-thirty in the afternoon. He edited out seven hours."

Penelope comes back into the room with her go-bag in hand and a laptop in the other.

"Garica, look for unsolved murders of women in their early thirties who were stabbed in Buffalo and surrounding cities. Go back ten years."

Penelope sits back down and starts typing on her computer.

"Wouldn't ViCAP have already picked up on that?"

"ViCAP only went web-based about a month ago, and Buffalo PD only recently uploaded the data. Without diving in too deep, I have twenty-two counts of murders from women in their early thirties."

"Okay, wheels up in thirty."

It only takes an hour to get there, and you're talking to the lead detective, Lynne Henderson, before you know it. She's shocked to hear how many cased Penelope found with one quick search.

"Twenty-two? We had six. Do you really think it could be that many?"

"We went back ten years and included surrounding cities. The unsub may be out of his comfort zone. Now, they may not all be connected, but they all match Michelle's type--blonde, white, and in their early thirties. The autopsy reports will help us determine which of these cases are connected."

"I'll get them here right away."

"We also need to take a look at the crime scenes."

"Y/N and I will stay and help Reid," Rossi offers.

"I'll take Prentiss and Morgan," Hotch says.

"Tell me, do you think this is a one-off or can I expect more films?" Lynne asks.

"It's not a one-off. The filming of his kills makes him a sexual psychopath. We'll find more, many more just like this one."

Derek, Emily, and Hotch leave to go to Michelle's crime scene while you, Rossi, and Spencer go back over the video that was sent to the police. It's weird to see someone write "help me" when they're considered a psychopath.

"It's weird because 'help me' is in direct conflict with the psychology of a psychopath, and it's something I've never seen before. Psychopaths don't have the capacity to feel empathy towards others. They can mimic it, but they can't feel it."

"Does that mean he didn't mean it?" Lynne asks.

"Could be or someone or something is showing him who he really is."

Penelope walks in with determination.

"Okay, friends, the video on this film is analog. It's since been digitized, but it is seriously degraded."

"Meaning what?" you ask.

"Meaning this kind of degradation only happens over at least a decade and thousands of repeated viewings."

"It's the only way he gets his release is if he watches it over and over again."

"Then you're right. He's been doing this for ten years."

"More like twenty," Penelope says. "That woman in this video is wearing a sweater I haven't seen since Flashdance."

Rossi looks over the evidence including Michelle's calendar book she used for everything since she was a real estate worker who needed to know when her appointments were.

"On the day of her death, Michelle entered the name Robert at four in the afternoon."

"We found no one connected to her with that name. We think it's an alias," Lynne says.

"Michelle's highly organized. She's left-handed because she's precise and light of hand. The hardest point is where she starts, the lightest point is where she tails off. In her case, she tails off to the right." Spencer looks deeper into what she wrote with confusion on his face. "This is weird."

"What is?" JJ asks.

"I'm not sure, but the number twenty-nine is circled twice in red ink and it tails off to the left. Whoever wrote that is right-handed."

JJ plays the video of the unsub right when he writes on the wall. He's writing with his right hand, and he's using red ink.

"The unsub is right-handed and he's using red ink. The unsub write this 'twenty-nine' and circled it."

"Guys, tomorrow's the 29th," Penelope says.

Whatever is going to happen, it's going to happen tomorrow. The camera keeps shaking as the unsub is recording this, and you take the remote from JJ to forward it to when the unsub encounters the two strangers by their car. They have no clue he is recording them because they don't notice a camera on him. If he's wearing glasses, he might not need a camera to hold.

"What if the unsub is recording through his glasses?" you say. "Maybe that's why no one ever saw it. If Michelle saw a camera, then she would have registered it in the video."

JJ's phone rings and she takes it off to the side. When she's done, she comes back into the room.

"Y/N's right. Derek and Em also think the unsub's camera is in the glasses. You need to get a sketch of the unsub out to every camera shop in Buffalo."

"If he hunts within a comfort zone, then whichever of these camera shops he visits the most will be the one he'll live closest to."

"I'll tell my guys," Lynne says and takes the picture of the unsub with her.

"Hotch also wants us to focus on victims found in controlled locations like secure areas with little chance of witnesses, and ones where he left the bodies where he killed them."

There are twenty-two files of women who were victims in the last ten or so years that you go through that fit secure locations with little to no witnesses.

"Based on that, I have Emily Flynn who was killed in June of 1998. She was found in her apartment and was stabbed twenty-three times. In March of 2000, Hilary Habner was stabbed eighteen times in her basement. Cindy Stagnal was stabbed multiple times in her office in April 2001. Finally, we have Vanessa Bright who was stabbed and found in her studio in May of 1999."

"1999 to 2001. Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have our timeline," you state. "It looks like our killer strikes almost exactly every twelve months."

"Oh, my god," Lynne gasps. "He got away with killing all these women."

"I think we need to inform the media. Buffalo has a serial killer," JJ warns.

You grab the remote and watch when the unsub talked to the older couple by their car. He keeps looking down at the ground several times. He takes two steps to the right, back, and to the left as if he's stepping over some kind of object that you can't see. He circled the 29th twice in red, and he turned the sink on and off twice previously.

This isn't a message. This is something he has to do. You rewind the video and play the interaction again when you see he's not stepping over invisible objects, it's the cracks in the sidewalk. He's stepping over them because he has to. He's obsessive-compulsive meaning no matter how hard he tries, he simply can't stop himself.

By writing "help me", he really means "stop me". This is only going to get worse before it gets better. Hotch gives JJ the okay to release this statement to the public, so Lynne is the face of the report to warn everyone about the dangers of the unsub. Not even twenty-four hours after that statement, another woman was killed, so you head over to where she was dumped. She was wrapped in a black trash bag and placed by the dumpsters, and the weird thing about her is that she doesn't fit the other victims at all.

"There is no purse, no jewelry, and nothing to ID her with," Detective Lynne says.

"She must have meant something to the unsub. He didn't care what was left behind on Michelle because he knew we wouldn't be able to trace her back to him."

"Why did he cover her up and fold her arms across her chest? She can't be more than twenty-four. This doesn't fit his victimology."

"Maybe she caught him in the act of something, so he killed her to keep his secret," you say. "The chest wounds match that of Michelle's. He probably knew her because of the way he wrapped her and the position he left her in."

"That's somewhat of a leap," Lynne says.

"Not when you consider this is the first time he dumped the body. Unlike the others, he brought her body here and dumped it."

"Someone will be missing her soon."

"Today's the 29th. He probably killed her last night. Whatever his plans are, he still has them. We're ready to give the profile."

Since there are so many officers on the scene, Lynne gathers them so you can give the profile out. Only you, Derek, Rossi, and Hotch are here. The rest are back at the station.

"We've confirmed eleven kills over a ten-year period. This makes twelve. All but one are blonde, white, and in their mid to late thirties. This unsub has extreme obsessive-compulsive disorder. This woman doesn't fit his victimology. He probably didn't target or even mean to kill her."

"Five camera shops in Buffalo were shown this sketch." Lynne holds up the sketch of the unsub. "The owner of Tarquinio's camera shop on Union Road recognized it. He knows him only as Vincent. He bought two three-millimeter mini wireless cameras and had them retrofitted to his glasses."

"He's well-versed in camera technology. He probably generates income from a related field, so stake out the shop but keep a low profile. He walks in off the street, politely waits his turn, and pays in cash. This is him." Hotch holds up the video shot of Vincent in the camera shop. "He's wearing a black overcoat and black baseball cap. You'll get more from your sketch."

"Now, this last kill shows the most remorse. This guy's mobile so he's most likely in a SUV that's low-profile and mute in color. He's beginning to devolve. His OCD will get worse and he'll have a hard time hiding it. He will take bigger and bigger risks to achieve his ultimate goal."

"In Michelle Watson's day planner, he circled the number twenty-nine. Today is the 29th. We believe he may have something planned for today. He sent us that film as his way of reaching out. He may be ambivalent, but his OCD won't let him stop. Now, if he sees a heavy police presence and he's not done, he'll run. The east side is his comfort zone. That is where he lives. However random, anything out of the ordinary, please let us know."

"Thank you very much." The group is disbanded and Hotch turns to Rossi. "Tell me again what the autopsy report said."

"He seems to be killing once a year. All of them but Michelle were overkill. He stabbed her just once. Plus, hers was the only one he sent footage of to the police. That's a definitive change."

"You're right. Call Reid and Prentiss. Tell them to go over the autopsy report again. We need to know why."

"I'm actually headed that way anyway. I'll catch them up," you say. "I'll call you if we find anything."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[helloitstsyu]

you get to wear a mask | Tom Cruise [fluff]

my masterlist

Summary : As a celebrity, it's nearly impossible to go and to do normal life activities in public. So, as his girlfriend, you offer Tom a solution.

Pairing : Tom Cruise x female!businesswoman!reader

A/N : it's my first fluff y'all🥹, i hope you like it as much i love writing it. this makes me giggle so much as i imagine it. I wanna know what you think abt this one, talk to me, babes!

WC : 3157

"Babe! I'm gonna go run some errands, do you want something specifically?" You shout as you gather your things before you head out the door.

Tom walks downstairs. He just had finished making a phone call with none other than his creative partner, Christopher McQuarrie. Ever since he landed in Los Angeles this morning, he's been occupied with work phone calls.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

Lifting your head up you see your boyfriend walking towards you, he leans against the doorway of your kitchen and put his hands inside his trousers pocket.

"Grocery, we literally have nothing in here,"

You're a thriving businesswoman. A CEO of an e-commerce fashion startup. You constantly hopping between big cities for work, New York, Los Angeles, London, and Paris, that's why you decided you expand your assets and buying apartments in each city so that you don't waste your money for expensive hotel expenses. Hence, why you don't have anything in your LA home since you haven't lived here for the past few months.

Tom pouts, "I just finished my calls, and now you wanna leave me,"

You and Tom have somewhat of a long distance relationship. With him caught up and busy filming and you running your business. It took extra effort to spend time together with your man. Though, two of you are keeping one important rule, never spend apart for 2 weeks. And for so long you've been living to that.

You smile as Tom gives you puppy dog eyes. "Why? You wanna come with me?" You smirk.

Tom smiles, "If it means i get to spend more time with you, yes," Tom steps forward and pulling you closer by your hips, "But, you know... i don't think whole food is Tom Cruise friendly,"

You chuckle as Tom place a sweet kiss on your cheek, "i missed you so much, baby,"

Suddenly, the brightest ideas come to your mind.

"I have an idea..." You smile and wiggle your brows.

Tom crook his head as he sees that mischievous grin on your face. For as he thought, you might be plotting something that beyonds the world's expectations.

"This is not what i had in mind when you said you have an idea," Tom protests as you sit down in front of him. You turn your makeup bag upside down, and all of your makeup products rain to the floor.

"You get to wear a mask, Ethan, you love when you got to wear a mask, don't you,"

Tom sighs "Never i thought someone would use that line to turn against me,"

"Tommy, you love when i throws you movies references at you,"

Tom chuckles and shakes his head. You take your phone and turn on the camera. You start recording and put your phone on the coffee table, rest it to a coffee mug so it stands still perfectly.

"What are you doing? Why are you taping this?" Tom asks.

"So we can have memory to look back to," You said as you prop the camera.

"Nonono, NO! you're not recording this," Tom reaches to your phone.

"Thomas!" You slap his and before it can reach your phone.

Witnessing the look you have on your face and the shift in your tone, Tom feels like he just seen your inner mother gothel. He sighs and just gives in.

"You're not gonna post that, though,"

"Of course i won't! It'll be our sweet secret memory, yep?" You smile at him, and Tom only smiles back sarcastically.

"Oh, come on, Thomas! It's not like you haven't got your makeup done for carpets or films anyway,"

You take a few pumps of your foundation to the back of your hand. Dotting the product on several spots of his face, then you start spreading it evenly using your brush.

"Yeah? Well, my makeup artist doesn't have that devilish-mischievous grin on their faces,"

"Baby... i need you to trust me," you said seriously.

Tom grunts and stops protesting.

"This is definitely the wrong shade... you're much tanner than me,"

"Oh, great," He rolls his eyes.

You chuckle, "How do you usually have your makeup on?" You ask.

Taking your fenty cream contour, you swipe them on the back of your hand and mix it with the foundation to create darker shade. Et Voila, the perfect match to his skin.

"Just- what do you call it? concealer?... maybe a little foundation if needed, like if i haven't gotten enough sleep,"

"Yeah? You never have like a full face of makeup? Character makeup?" You ask again as you still apply foundation all over his skin.

"Um... not really, maybe for vanilla sky,"

"Oh yeah! i remember that... that was a scary face though, tell me bout it,"

Tom starts to tell the story about the David Aames makeup he had on Vanila Sky. Well, as you thought, work does stop him from protesting and whining like an annoyed little boy.

You giggle after finishing spreading the foundation and concealer evenly all over his face. His skin looks so good, better than yours even. He has such perfect, well taken care of skin.

You take your face pallette next.

"What's that?" Tom asks.

"My fenty contour and highlight stick, it's to redefine the shadows and highlights of your face, cause after i finish applying foundation, your face now is all in one flat tone." You said as you apply the bronzer and contour to his cheek and forehead.

Tom thinks for a moment, "Why are you teaching me this stuff as if I'm gonna need to do makeup to myself?"

You laugh. "Well, baby, you never know... maybe someday your makeup artist catches a cold before red carpet," Tom chuckles and shakes his head.

You continue to apply contour and highlighter on his face. After setting it all with a translucent powder and put some blush on his cheeks, Tom reopens his eyes with you grinning widely.

"You look different," you giggle.

Tom takes a peek on your phone screen to look at what his face looks like.

"Babe, you can't look yet!" You stop him from peeking, but he managed to get a glimpse of what he looks like.

"Oh god! You supposed to make me look unrecognizable, not girly!"

"Your skin looks beautiful tho, you have such nice skin,"

Tom rolls his eyes and grunts.

"Why do i agree to this," Tom mutters.

"Well, darling, you do this because you lo—" Your words stop at the tip of your tongue when you realize the L word hasn't come out yet. None of you have said the L word you've only been with him for a few months.

Tom realizes how your expression drops. He knows what you were about to say. The quick expression shifts on your face from cheerful to a saddened look, sends rushes of pain inside his veins.

"...I mean... You'd do this because you're an adrenaline junkie... right? You like challenging yourself. But i guess you don't have to... i-if you don't really want to," you look down at the scattering makeup products on the floor.

That makes his heart break.

These past few months, Tom has been feeling that bubbling-odd feeling inside him building. He knows he's hooked in deeply. He can't stop thinking of you. You're constantly on his mind, and he admires you deeply. He just hasn't got enough balls to say the word to your face. He's afraid that he's moving too fast.

Tom takes your hand, which is holding a blush brush.

"Come on, need more blush," he smiles.

Beat drops. Even that got your heart swims in wonders. Giggling again, you apply a little more blush to his face, and soon, the apples of his cheek look like a blushing porcelain doll.

Next step, eyebrows. You always love his thick eyebrows. You think it's a statement of him. You take your brow gel, and you brush his brow upwards, and diagonally, you try your best to make them look good.

"I always wanted to do your brows... but it's kinda hard though," you mutter. "Hmm... yeah they look good enough,"

And to make you happy, of course he gives in and lets you do everything to his face. Tom looks at you deeply. Those eyes that he's been giving you for the past 5 minutes starts to make your heart beats faster and your palm sweating. Those eyes are the reason you're here. Everytime Tom looks at you like this, you swear you feel like you've been sent to heaven.

"Stop that!" You chuckle and cover his eyes. He knows you get butterflies when he gives you those eyes and he adores that you try to pretend as if you're not flustered.

Tom chuckles, "I'm not doing anything, darling,"

"Shut up, help hold me this, Tom," you said, handing him an open eyeshadow palette.

"Close your eyes for me, sweet," you kindly ask.

Tom follows all that you said. You begin applying eyeshadow to his eyelids. Deciding to go for an angel eyes look to complement those beautiful emerald eyes.

"Ow! What is that?" Tom asks, look you back in the eyes.

"Just powder," you apply the other eye the same color of eyeshadow too.

"OW! It's like burning," Tom narrows his eyes.

"No, it's not!" You grin

"Right where you just put it, it's burning... seriously!"

You stop applying them and sit back straight. Looking at his eyelids, you try to find if something is wrong, if there's any redness or anything.

"Is it still?" You ask.

"Yes!" Tom grins

You chuckle nervously, "What if you're allergic?"

Just when you start to think he's being serious, you can see shift in his eyes. "What if?!"

"Don't lie to me! I can tell when you're acting!"

"I'm serious!" Tom exclaims, but the grin still stays on his face.

You apply more to his crease.

"Arrghhh," Tom yelps.

"Tommy, stop it! I can smell you lying!" You slap his shoulder, and Tom laughs.

You take your favorite maybelline mascara and your magical shu uemura eyelash curler.

"Wait, what's that? That looks dangerous!" Tom holds your hand down.

"Just an eyelash curler,"

"Nnonono,... don't bringing that thing near my eyes," Tom pushes away your hand.

"Tom,... tommy, relax, just trust me, Baby, come on," you try to stop him from pushing your hand away.

And again, he gives in.

"Look down," you told him to do, adorably, Tom misunderstood and buck his head down.

Pulling his head back straight, you chuckle, "No, baby, you look down with your eyes not with your head,"

"Don't poke my eyes,"

"I won't... i need you to relax, okay?" Tom nods,

"Aaahh..." Tom squeals as you clamp those beautiful long lashes.

You can't stop laughing to your sweet boyfriend's funny reaction. The fact that you have an older boyfriend, a grown man, more than that, your boyfriend is the freaking Tom Cruise. The guy who did daring stunts as his way to pay the check. Now you got him squealing like a big baby. Thank God you tape this moment.

"Okay, okay... I'm done," you said,

Tom sighs hard, "Jesus Christ! it was scarier than hanging on the side of a plane!"

You feel like your stomach starts to get hurt from all the non-stop laughter. This is the best thing that ever happened in your life. Tom Cruise, finally admitting to be scared of something.

"Okay, baby, Mascara, now this will be tricky, just trust me on this one, keep your eyes down and still, ready?" You ask.

"Wait, is that like waterproof? Can it come off?" Tom stops you.

"No, it'll come off,"

"How do i get it off?" He asks.

"You just rub it,"

Tom takes a long deep breath, "Okay, go" he said.

You start applying a good amount of mascara to his lashes. Rolling the wand on his lashes.

"I don't like it..." Tom whines like a big baby sissy.

You can't help but to laugh out loud.

"Aaaahh..., i don't like it," Tom cries again as you put mascara on to his other eye.

Feels like you have a full abs workout. Even you're tearing up from laughing too much.

Now, Tom looks gorgeous, jeez, he looks like a freaking poster model. His eyelashes are snatched and thick long. The sparkly pink and bronze eyeshadows makes his green eyes pop even brighter. Guess you were right, you always thought he'd be pretty too as a girl just as much as he is as a man. He has such a good genes.

You giggle, "you look so pretty, Tommy!" you smile.

"I'm gonna have to contour your nose though. You have such a manly nose, babe," you said as you picked up your go-to fenty contour stick again.

"Um... yeah?! because I'm a man??... I have a freaking annaconda under my pants,"

You gasp, eyes widen in shock, "TOMMY!" You slap his shoulder.

Tom laughs upon watching how your cheek burns in red cherry color. Tom loves to tease you and catch you off guard like that, making you flustered and burn in red.

"Can't believe you said that," you apply the contour again on his nose.

"Well, you like it, don't you?" Tom chuckles.

"I meant you have such a distinct nose! That's such a Tom Cruise nose,"

You blend the contour on his nose. Trying to make it look somewhat different than his famous nose. Tom can't stop grinning widely at you.

As you focus on making his nose look different, Tom looks at you deeply with that look again. The corner of his lips slightly curls up, his tender gaze glued still on you. His hands are on your thighs, softly caressing your smooth skin with his thumb. You feel butterflies fluttering inside of you again.

You giggle, "Can you stop looking at me with those eyes!" You cover his eyes with your hand again,

"What eyes?" Tom smiles wider, he holds your hand down and leans in to place a kiss on your cheek.

"Tom..." You giggle.

"Do i make you nervous or something, Miss Makeup Artist?"

You giggle as Tom sends attacks of sweet kisses on your cheek and neck.

"Tommy, come on, you're not done yet,"

Tom chuckles and sit back straight again. You steal a kiss before you put a nude pink colored lipstick on that lips. Then, you're all done with his makeup.

"There you go... oohhh look at you girl, you look so beautiful!!" You giggle.

Tom looks over at your phone screen. His jaw hangs wide open when he finds the result of your work on his face.

"Oh my lord!" Tom exclaims in a southern accent, which earning you to laugh even louder.

"Darling, what did you do to me?! I look like my sisters!"

You're rolling all over the floor. Bursting in loud laughter. Your stomach hurt and you can't stop some tears to spill out.

"Oh wait, i forgot one thing!" You take your setting spray and spray it to his face.

"What- does it make it not wash off?!" Tom asks.

You grin widely and nod, "Yeah,"

His jaw hangs and eyes widen, "Are you serious?!" Tom crooks his head to the side.

You chuckle, "Yeah... it won't wash off for 6 hours," You lie.

"DARLING!" Tom tickles your waist.

You laugh and hold down his hands. You hand Tom a mirror. He looks at his face closer with wide eyes. Scanning the details of artwork on his face. His eyes nearly bulges out off his head.

"SWEET JESUS! My eyes are scaring me!... Look at my lashes, they grew 2 inches more!"

You for sure can not feel your stomach. Your cheek burns from laughing too much. Feels like the muscles there have their own workouts.

Afterwards, you told Tom to change his clothes with your pink baggy hoodie. Your big hoodie still fits him like a normal-well-fitted hoodie, though this one is better  than his previous outfits that hug his body tightly, showing all of his muscles. You also insist Tom to put on your Jessica Rabbit's wig that you have, and you once use them for a Halloween party.

Later that day, You managed to take Tom Cruise grocery shopping in downtown Los Angeles without one person recognizing him. It was a mission accomplished. Well, some of the people there give him a weird look though.

Before you went to bed, you sent McQ the selfie of you and Tammy (you said to McQ Tammy was your new friend), and he too can not tell who's next to you at first! Took McQ a couple of minutes and a closer look before he texted back, "THAT'S TOM?! YO WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Tom comes out from the bathroom. "Honey! You send McQ the pictures?!"

"What pictures?" You act dumb as you eat your strawberries that you bought earlier.

"Oh you know what I'm talking about," He narrows his eyes and have his hand on his hips.

You giggle again, "yeah..."

"Y/N Y/LN!"

"Oh come on, Thomas, no need to be dramatic here, sweetie. McQ couldn't recognize you that means i did a great job... you too honey! You just went grocery shopping! I'm proud of you!" You come to him and kiss his cheek.

"That was your best acting too, baby," you tease him again. Gives him a playful wink as you click your tongue.

Tom looks at you still. His shoulders drop slowly as his gaze soften at you.

"Thank God, i love you," he said.

You feel your heart skipped a beat, and the clock stops ticking for a moment. You look back at his eyes with wide eyes. You stop chewing the frozen strawberry inside your mouth.

"What?" You ask with your mouth stuffed full.

"Of course i do, you're my dream come true, I was just afraid to say that too soon, but i can't help it any longer. And I don't expect you to say—"

Tom smiles and sits next to you, "You heard me... i love you, Y/N... i love you so much that i let you do shit to my face,"

Tears start to brimming in your eyes. You feel your heart warming up. Tom runs his fingers through your hair.

"... and I'd let you do it all over again if it means i get to be with you, i love you, darling," he smiles.

Swallowing the strawberry inside your mouth. Tears finally falls to your cheek, to which Tom quickly wipes away. "Y-you... love me?" You ask softly.

"I love you!" You cut him immediately.

Tom freezes for a moment before he smiles, "What?" He asks.

You smile, "I know i said to take this slow, but... but i love you,... Gosh, i love you so much, Tom,"

Tom smiles, wraps his hands around you, and brings you forward for a kiss.

ะ.⋆⸙͎۪۫⋆༶⋆⸙͎۪۫˙კ¸⊹

Tagging :

@malavera @call-sign-shark @tomsf18 @moondustfairies @katherineswritingsblog

[starlightshadowsworld]

Five nights at Freddy’s but it's Batman.

If you were expecting this to make sense....Don't.

I started ranting about this while half asleep.

I'm not following any time line just game order.

Also we're skipping fnaf 2.

Barbara Gordon is Charlotte "Charlie" Emily.

She is killed by Joe Chill aka the Joker aka William Afton aka the Purple Guy.

Her father, Jim Gordon aka Henry Emily is devastated. He has no idea how this occurred.

Not a clue.

Totally didn't see the purple car at the crime scene.

A purple car he sees every morning.

... Nope.

He goes to the cops but it's Gotham so they don't do shit.

However, because it's Gotham Batman shows up to help.

But unfortunately no one knows who killed poor Babs so gotta do some investigating.

Also there's been a string of dissappearances around the restaurant.

People are loving calling it "the missing children's incident."

And the cops are doing nothing so Batman is also investigating that and wonders if the two are connected.

Bat's makes the great decision to go undercover as a nighttime security guard.

And despite the fact he is very clearly billionaire Bruce Wayne in a security uniform.

No one recognises him.

He is now Mike Schmidt.

... You know still a better name for his cover than Matches Malone.

And because I recently watched Batman: The Doom that came to Gotham.

Great, one of the weirdest things I've ever watched.

... Don't watch it if you like Talia because... Yikes.

Anyway, so Bruce is very much on his fear works because villians are superstitious and cowardly.

I don't believe in magic, everything can be explained by science.

...And than Golden Freddy bursts into the office.

Had to rework a few things than.

It takes him less than 5 nights to figure it all out.

Beats the shit out of and gets Joe Chill arrested.

But it's Gotham and FNAF so it doesn't even go that far.

Not that they know for years later.

During this time Bruce adopts another kid, Jason.

Yeah Dick is here but he left to another city.

He's officially the smart one.

No he doesn't have a character equivalent he's just... There.

Jason however later turns out to be Jason Chill aka the son of Joe Chill.

Aka this worlds Michael Afton.

Gets wind his real father isnt Willis Todd but Joe Chill.

Goes after him, despite him being in hiding for years.

Does this by working at Fazbear Frights as a nighttime security guard.

Witnesses Joe Chill destroying the animatronics.

Releasing the spirits and causing Joe Chill to back into his Spring lock suite.

Multiple springlock failures occure.

Jason gets on tape that he's the murderer and killed Barbara Gordon.

Bruce and Jim show up and together they set the place on fire with Joe Chill's body inside.

But no body is ever found.

One of the old locations starts up again.

Bruce finds out Joe Chill had another son, and adopts him.

Leaving out the whole... We set him on fire.. Maybe.

This kid is Tim Chill aka the crying child.

Who Jason likes to mess with and Tim messes with him back in turn.

Jason plays a seemingly harmless prank on Tim... That he ends up taking too far.

And in his defence no one knew that the Golden Freddy animatronic had the jaw strength of a shark.

Bruce goes into mourning.

The body goes missing.

Jason wanting to fix things does his own investigation and finds Circus Baby's entertainment and rentals.

Ran by Chill robotics.

Turns out Joe Chill decided to literally put his child back together.

And infused Baby with his remnant.

His lil clown.

Though both sides of Tim, both Joker Jr and the brother of Jason fight over Jason's fate.

Whether he should live or die.

Joker Jr I mean Baby wins and Jason is scooped.

Dick, who was staying in Gotham for Tim's funeral, realises Jason has gone missing.

And goes out to search for him.

Finding the his brother now a disturbing shade of purple and an undead zombie.

Gets Jason back home, Jason is basically catatonic only repeating "You won't die, you won't die" over and over.

Bruce gives him a big hug, apologising for blaming Jason and pushing him away.

Though Jason is convinced Tim's fate is his fault.

He ends up puking up Ennard, which Bruce captures and puts in the Batcave.

They take what's left of Baby and upload Tim's consciousness to a robotic version of him Jim just... Had on hand.

Along with a robot Barbara.

... Yeah don't, don't worry about it.

Jason apologises profusely, Tim calls him a dumbass, things are finally right with the world.

Butt this isn't enough for Jim who realises an animatronic can't replace his Barbara.

Decides if I can't have my happy ending none of you can.

Has a redo birthday party for Tim and sets the place on fire.

... Except it does literally nothing and Bruce shoves him in Arkham and just takes Babs back with him.

Way to go smart guy.

Damian Wayne aka Gregory shows up at some point. He got told he couldn't go to the pizzaplex.

And went anyway.

Gave everyone a heart attack, stole Glamrock Freddy and made a friend in Cassandra Cain aka Vanessa.

A trained assassin who Joe Chill was trying to hypnotise into killing for him.

They tried to kill each other if the cause of a night so they're friends now.

Bruce adopts another child all is well with the world.

Until Jonathan Kent aka Cassie shows up because of a fake message luring him to the pizzaplex saying Damian was in danger.

The mimic gets it's butt kicked, Bruce lectures Clark about not keeping an eye on his son.

The hypocrite.

And everyone goes home.

Oh and Jim and his wife got divorced when Babs died.

His wife taking and raising their son, James Gordon Jr aka Sammy Emily.

Who's just off living life and is still a serial killer.

Soo... Yeah.

... Idk what this is but it exists now.

[rad-hound]

I wish we could actually witness Monsoon's cruelty as described in his Wikia. In fact, I would love a graphic novel/mini comic of the WoD's interaction with each other both on the field and off the field. It'd be nice to see Sundowner have a little chat with Monsoon about his gangster life. Idk, I'm hungry, okay?

Oh, yeah, it certainly would have been nice to have at least been able to see fragments or the entirety of Monsoon's—as well as the rest of the villains and their merry band—backstory, at the very least in the form of something visual, like cutscenes, rather than monologue spews which are only available through audio tapes / codec calls. (Very much a flaw that a lot of the games suffer, but is likely most present within games like Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance and Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain.) Which I understand would have likely costed a little more money to produce, since... animation doesn't simply appear out of thin air. But still.

I agree, entirely. As happy as I am that we even got to see even the slightest, most insignificant interactions between the main villains (I.E. Sam / Sundowner, Sam / Monsoon), it would have been a lot nicer to see them all interact with each other in the same room, unfettered. To see just how well they bounce off of one another, to give them a sense of humanity outside of their occupations / workplace. Given how "well" Sam and Sundowner seemed to click with each other, even if it may have been purely performative. The very same especially being true in the case of Monsoon, who likely needed that humanization the most, given how... fans tend to perceive him.

I remember, I think a year or two ago, someone on Instagram had created a 'fan-made' Monsoon DLC for the base game of MGR:R, the initial post / concept of which was eventually given a like / thumbs up by Platinum Games. Towards which, naturally, the creator of the 'DLC''s concept got a little giddy, because, "Oh my God, Platinum liked this!"

While I'm happy for them, it's just unfortunate that nothing would have likely come out of that interaction, given... the Kojima / Konami situation. Not that Kojima himself had any sort of groundbreaking prowess over the development of MGR:R, but the fact that he holds the cards—all full houses—and Konami / Platinum holds the games, if that makes sense.

Not that fanartists can't 'pick up the slack' where those companies fucked up, of course. This can be said about you, as well, Mx. Monsoon-Artist-of-the-Decade. I feel grateful everyday for the innovative, dedicated minds of Monsoon fans everywhere. ^_^

[the-offside-rule]

Gary Neville (Manchester United era) - Are You Sure?

Christmas (From The Vault)

Gary sat amidst colorful wrapping paper, tape scattered around, attempting to wrap a present. His brow furrowed in concentration as he struggled with the paper, his fingers fumbling with the tape. Y/n, his girlfriend, stood at the doorway watching him, a smile on her face. "Hey, Gary. Need a hand with that?"Gary huffed, "No, I've got it. I'm an expert wrapper." He replied.

Y/n arched a brow, and went be sit down beside him, leaning on his shoulder as she watched the chaos unfold. "Sure thing, expert. But I think your present might need a little magic touch."

As Gary continued to struggle, Y/n helped him, guiding his hands. "See, you fold it like this, and then just a bit of tape here." He had grown quiet. "You okay?" She asked. "Yeah. Just was never taught how to wrap is all. Seems like a bit of hassle though. Just stick a bow on the bloody thing and be done with it." Y/n laughed at his mini rant and held his hand. "That's not as fun though." He raised his eyebrows. "How?" She grabbed the wrapping paper and began wrapping the next item. "Less time I get to be with you, isn't it?"

As time passed, and their laughter echoed through the room as Y/n patiently taught Gary the art of wrapping. The presents may not have been perfectly wrapped, but the joy and love put into each one were evident and his family liked the effort; It added a nice touch.

This became a little but of a tradition, because if we fast forward twenty years, their home filled with the festive spirit and Gary, now a bit grayer but just as grumpy, stared at the pile of gifts in confusion. "I still reckon we just stick a bow on the bike and call it a night. Say Sanat couldn't afford wrapping paper." Gary whispered as Y/n had come into the sitting room with her hands filled eith wrapping paper.

Y/n, with the usual twinkle in her eyes, sat the wrapping paper to the side and stood next to him. "Remember our first Christmas together when you claimed to be an expert wrapper?" Gary grunted. "Vaguely." She smiled. "Well-" Y/n laughed. "Looks like you need a refresher course." She nudged him. "You're hilarious, you are."

The couple joked just as they did on their very first Christmas twenty years ago, as Y/n once again guided Gary through the intricacies of gift wrapping. This time, it wasn't just for them but for their children – a new generation to share the magic of Christmas.

Amidst the wrapping paper chaos, Gary couldn't help but smile at Y/n's infectious joy. "You're lucky you have me to save Christmas every year," she teased. Gary rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his affectionate grin. "Yeah, yeah, the expert wrapper is back."

Their eldest child Jack, witnessing the scene,joined in as he wanted to be a part of the magic of bringing Santa to life. Gary simply watched. "You're just like you're mum, you." Jack rolled his eyes. "I get the looks and the skills from her, don't I?" Y/n held in a laugh and Gary looked on gobsmacked. "Throw him a bit of coal."

Jack simply scoffed and continued helping his parents wrap presents and sharing laughter. As the room filled with warmth and love, Gary couldn't help but reflect on the two decades of Christmases spent with Y/n.

In that moment, surrounded by the two that started this little family and the comforting chaos of gift wrapping, Gary realized that the imperfections were what made their Christmas truly special. And though he may never master the art of wrapping, he had something far more precious – a lifetime of shared moments and a love that continued to grow with each passing year.

The morning after, as they gathered around the tree, the twinkling lights casting a warm glow, Gary squeezed Y/n's hand, silently thanking her for always bringing the magic of Christmas into their lives. And so, in the midst of sques, giggle and love, the family celebrated another Christmas, embracing the beautifully imperfect traditions that had become their own.

[short-black-diamond]

NOOOOOoooooooo.....

UHMMMMMMMMMM, I’m alive, haven’t posted in a while and i’m sorry, anyways, here’s a thought that crossed my mind! 

Hope y’all like it! BTW, no good ending for deku, like, Reader ends up with Bakugo n shit. 

Um Um gender neutral (They/them/their), no name called, like (Y/n), I didn’t write (Y/n), annnnd, yeah. 

Um, so it’s actually mutual pining, but...yeah, i dunno.  READ!

---

Bruh, imagine one sided love with Deku. 

You, who has known Midoriya Izuku all their life, who has been there for him when he found out that he was quirkless, when he got made fun of by Bakugo, when he didn’t feel his best.

So...

Why?

Why is he doing that to you? 

Why is he going towards Uraraka and not to you, with your outstretched arms, ready to hug him when he fucked up throwing the ball in the first test they had with the whole class on the first day of school? She only gave him a pat on the shoulder. 

Why was he trying to talk to Todoroki when the latter one didn’t want to have to do anything with the green haired boy? Why did Izuku care so much?

Why didn’t he talk to you as much as he did when it was just you two against the world?

Then it hit you. 

You loved him, but he only liked you. yeah, that’s it. Nothing more. 

anger, sadness and pain filled your whole body and soul the more you thought about it, and before you saw it coming, you spent the rest of the holidays alone, training to become a better person. 

Not once, ever since Deku met All Might, did you get a message other than ‘can’t srry’, ‘’m training rn’, ‘Maybe next time?’, or read on your phone from that freckled boy.  

Heartbreak. 

that’s what it was, yes...

You were so stupid. Why didn’t Deku tell you about his quirk that he had after all? Why was Uraraka the first one to witness it? Why was Bakugo the first one to find out about it? Why are Todoroki, Iida, Uraraka and Deku suddenly close friends with each other?

Why?

Is it because you’re somebody he knows already? Someone he thinks is boring? didn’t he like you anymore? Is that why he barely talks with you, too busy blushing whenever Uraraka touches or smiles at him?

You wanted to puke. You wanted to rip your heart out. Bang your head against a wall, fall down a building, drink poison, anything to stop those fucking butterflies erupting in your stomach whenever you thought about your ex bestfriend. 

Stupid feelings...!

...

...

...

It’s Sero, who notices your absence and lack of optimism first. Knocking swiftly on your door before opening it slowly, he is met with you pushing yourself up with your arms on a bar, in a handstand. 

“Whoah, you alright there?“, he asks, cautiously stepping closer and sitting down on your bed. a soft matress welcomed his ass as he sat down, and he sunk down a bit because of his weight.  

You didn’t hear the scotch tape dispenser and kept up with your training, sweat forming on legs, arms and neck, as well as on your forehead, rock music blasting your eardrums. your eyes were trained on the ground as to not loose your balance. 

Huh, pretty cozy in here., Sero thought.

Just now, the black haired boy realised that he has never been in your room until now. 

Sero looked around. He counted two pots of plants by the balcony, three little aquariums on your bookshelves, a big, little house like cage for Koda’s and your bunnies, which they rested in peacefully (yes, Koda canonly owns a bunny!) and as to not disturb them, you heard music with your earphones and tried your best to keep quiet with your groans. 

On the floor were some lost leaves for the bunnies, a few slices of carrot on the old fashioned nighttable, and lots of pet toys. but, there were also many pillows. A few people could make a pajama party here. 

And that became Sero’s idea. He smirked while watching you as he dialed Denki’s number, who then contacted the whole group. 

Soon, the loud people met your sweaty body and Sero looking at your form. They looked around, everyone thinking the same thing. 

They’re not as intimidating as they look. 

Suddenly, your feet met the ground, but you didn’t make a noise. you panted slowly as you stood up, but your sould nearly left your body when you saw the five people in your dorm room. 

“What the fuck? What are you guys doing here?!“, you whisper-yelled, not wanting to wake the furry pair in their nice little home. 

“Sero chatted us!“, mina cheered silently. 

“You looked down a little, so I thought we could chill a little.“, Sero gave back, speaking quietly. 

You locked eyes with Bakugo, and to your utter disbelief, he gave you a look of concern.

“You okay? You seem...dried out.“, he rasped, eyeing your body which was covered in sweat. 

You didn’t know what to say. 

Was THE Bakugo Katsuki asking about your wellbeing???!

“I...need a shower. Don’t be loud or touch anything.“, you then commanded upon seeing Kirishima, Denki and Mina play with your fishes. 

...

...

...

After about twenty minutes with a cold shower later, you were met with the sight of the five people having widen out your bed and everyone laying on it in a tangled mess; Mina was sleeping on Sero, Sero’s legs were on Denki’s stomach, Denki’s back was on Kirishima’s back, and Bakugo has somehow managed to sleep next to them without them touching him. 

You chuckled quietly and struggled to find a place to sleep on without laying your body parts on somebody else’s, when Bakugo pulled you flush against his chest. 

You blushed furiously while trying to escape from his vice grip, but he only pulled you closer. “Um...Bakugo-”

“Let’s stay like this. Tell me. Why are you behaving like that?“, he whispered. The soft snores of your loud friends signaled that you and Bakugo were the only ones awake at this hour. 

And that gave you time to think about your answer. 

“I...well, it’s about Izu- Midoriya.“

“Ouch, what did he do to make himself land on last name basis with ya?“

You laughed a little, your nervousness about being so close--too close--with your childhood rival, fading a little. 

Huh, it’s pretty nice with him. 

Only now did you feel his chiseled hand trail up and down your body, relaxing you. comforting you. 

“I don’t know. First thing I know, we’re besties, it’s me and him against the world, and the boom. Suddenly he has all those other...those better people around him...“

Bakugo listened to what you whispered. He didn’t say anything. 

“...He is friends with Todoroki, son of the number one pro hero. With Iida, son of a rich family. With Uraraka, whom he must have a crush on...!

I-I mean, look at her! She’s so much more than me..! She is so nice! While I’m trying to be intimidating and shit. She has a nice, high voice, while mine is grotesquely deep. she can make things float! And what can I do with my quirk? No-“

A pair of soft, caramel tasting lips touched yours tenderly. He pressed them on you, very slowly, cautiously, as not to ram into you. His lips were made to fit against yours it seemed. 

he breathed out a sigh, and you, being completely shocked and surprised, calmed down a bit after a few seconds. Then you closed your eyes and cherished the moment. 

After a little more moments of that sudden intimacy, you guys broke the kiss. 

You still had your eyes closed, still feeling the explosive boy’s lips on yours. When you opened your eyelids, you caught him looking at you with a little smile. 

“Please don’t think so lowly of yourself. If you want to know, ‘m havin’ a hard time catchin’ up with ya. Yer more than that floaty bitch, y’know? And about that damn nerd...I’ll handle this. a’ight?“

Unable to say anything - then again, what could you say? - you nodded. 

And then, you saw Katsuki avert his eyes, his cheeks changing their colour and he stuttered something. 

“...w-would you like to... go out ...with me or somethin’?“

at that, you smiled. “Sure, why not?”, and you snuggled into his tits. chest.

Securely, you fell into a deep slumber in the arms of your former enemy. 

But...that didn’t seem to be so bad now. 

...

“Oi, you ready or nah?“, your boyfriend sneered, standing in the doorway. you were putting on a jacket to your school uniform. “Katsuki it’s cold.“

“I am hot.“

“I know, now put on this hoodie.“

“No.“

“...Why not?“

“It’s-“ - “Put it on.“

“Okay.“

You felt a pair of eyes staring at you when you left the UA building to go hiking with Katsuki and when you turned around, you saw Midoriya looking at you with a sad expression. 

Why was he looking at you like that? He has Uraraka after all! And his new best friend Todoroki! And the little brother of the Pro Hero Ingernium! 

since you had no feelings for the green haired guy anymore, you gave him a look of disgust before turning around and looking forward to the date your boyfriend wanted to take you on. 

... 

...

...

“why...?“, Izuku asked himself, after you gave him stank eyes and fucked off with his childhood friend. Hand in hand. Ouch. 

Uraraka grabbed her chance to confess. 

“well, maybe they like Bakugo more? And don’t worry, you’ll find somebody better soon!“, she cheered.

But Izuku was having none of that. 

“No, I’ll talk to them. I can’t believe they’d date Kachan! I don’t want to believe it!”, soon, tears blurred his vision and he retreated back to his dorm room, leaving the floating girl in the common room. 

In his room, Izuku took off all the posters. Yes, the All Might posters. 

...

“we’ll be heroes together! Okay Izuku?! Kachan?!“, you yelled giggling, and your two best friends cheered. 

“Yes! I’ll be the number one pro hero!“

“No, I will be!“

“Jeez, why do you guys always need to be number one?! Being a hero isn’t about who is the best, it’s about saving the innocent and fighting the evil!“

“Oh, they’re right!“

“Then we’ll save as many people as possible and fight the bad guys as good as we can!“

“Yes!“

“Yeah!“

...

that memory came when Izuku found a photo of you, him, and Kachan as little children in his drawer. He didn’t remember when he put it there, but it always made him happy. Now his heart broke. 

He saw another photo underneath the first one, and his heart nearly shattered upon seeing the next flashback. 

... 

“Wow, Mido, you really planning to buy all these posters?“

“Yep, I wanna have all of them!“

“Well, talk about hurting the environment.“

Izuku and you were in your thirteenns, you were looking edgy and you were popular, while Izuku was just a simple loser nerd, but still, you hung out with him. 

He was holding many plastik sticky posters in his hand, in a plastic bag, and you were buying eco friendly books in your cotton bag. 

You were angry at him, to say the least, but you couldn’t let him know. 

After all, you wanted to become an intimidating hero. 

But, Izuku knew you, and your sarcastic remark didn’t really soothe his nervousness and guilt around you. 

What could he say? He was a sucker for emos and goths!

“W-well, I will hang them in my room for a long time! Until they fall off alone!“

“...I sure hope that for you, Mido.“

at your nickname, he blushed, and quickly followed you to the cash register. 

...

Now, he was ripping the All Might posters with all his strength, and he scraped the walls a little, but not that he cared. 

Izuku was crying so hard as memory after memory of good times with you and him came crashing down on him and it was tearing his heart apart.

Now, after he even broke the big poster on the ceiling and stuffed all his all might figurines into a carton, he sighed, his chest heaving, and he sniffed. 

Then, he took his phone which he let fall onto the bed carelessly and texted you. 

‘Hey, where r u rn?‘

‘Is everything ok?‘

‘Wanna meet up?‘

No answer, every single message he sent you wasn’t even on read. 

five minutes passed, nothing. 

He tried doing homework. 

Nothing after 30 minutes. 

Three hours later, he looked at his phone again. 

You did read his messages. But you didn’t answer. 

Izuku wrote again. 

‘R u good?‘

‘are you feeling ok? Should i come ovr?‘

‘pls answer...‘

you read them on the spot. 

And this time, you were writing- No, a voicemail?

After said voicemail, ten seconds, appeared, he pressed on the play butten and quickly put it right next to his ear, a hopeful smile on his lips.

“Izuku. Stop writing me. Stop thinking that we’re friends after you’ve fucking ghosted me for nearly a fucking year. And don’t you ever fucking talk to me again. ever.“

...

You sighed, a tired look on your face, as you layed down onto Katsuki’s bed after you gave said owner your phone to place on the nighttable. 

He chuckled before swiping your hair to the side and softly kissing your temple. you moaned contently and smiled as you closed your eyes. 

“You did a great job, y’know?“

“Yeah, feels nice to finally tell someone to fuck out of somebody’s life. Also, can we go hiking again? I haven’t been so close to nature in ages...!“

“Sure, love.“, he whispered before cuddling you with his sweaty hands, but you didn’t mind wet hands. 

---

HEY 

HOW ARE YOU:DDD

HOW WAS THAT

SORRY I AM SHIT AT WRITING ANGST :(((

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Bakugo x Black reader

He loves it. The sight of your ebony arms wrapped around his waist. The squeeze of your thighs around his. The pulsating heat of your crotch lightly smashed against his. 

He loves you. The light moans of your relaxed sleeping humming on his ear. That softy grip of your fist in his blonde hair. The absent sleepy kisses you left just below his earlobe.

His dewdrop. The yang to his Ying. His chocolate goddess. His beautiful black wife. 

It had been ten years since you've been together 3 since you were married and he couldn't be happier. So many obstacles, so many hurdles-gone, obliterated by his devotion alone. Perhaps he felt a sense of injured pride, because he can't share his triumphs with the woman he calls his wife. But how do you tell the icon of purity that her legacy was stained. Right. You don't tell her. You burn the evidence, bury the body, and clean up your trails. Being a rising hero with his results made it childsplay. Merely an 'accidental casualty' during a fight or 'a villain's plot to kill a witness.' It was just too easy. 

But if he learned anything from his rival counterpart was that his cockiness would be his downfall.

He pushed the escaped curls from her bonnet into his nose. Inhaling the sweet aroma of cocoa butter and argan oil, his crimson eyes rolling to the back of his head. He fervently sniffed more than he ever could while you were awake. Even in your union you forbade him from so much as touching your do let alone smelling it. So he took advantage only giving pause when feeling the twitching flutter of your lashes along his jaw. 

"Mmmmmm."

You cozied into him further plunging yourself into the clutches of sleep you never fought. You were still asleep, the vibrations of your musing lulling yourself to sleep and rousing your needy husband. 

You woke up to the wet and aggressive kisses against your neck-your breast- your stomach- your--

"he-Hey mister! Hands off! I have work later and I want to be able to focus."

You held your hand inbetween your angry husband's eager tongue and the spot between your legs he wanted to taste. Using that hand you pushed your husband up and out of the way rising from your posisition on the bed. Now hand on his peck you maneuvered around him to reach the suit you had ironed the night before. 

"You could...stay...for longer..." Katsuki spoke kissing against any unclothed skin he could find. You chuckled, swatting him off as you worked your way into your suit fixing your tie as the last piece. 

"So? How do I look?"

You made a turn as you shrugged with your arms.

"I think you look like you want to come back to bed with me."

Knowing the risk you leaned forward to kiss him deeply and stopping his searching hands from messing up your work. With one last peck you were on your way leaving the apartment you two cozied in.

As you revved up the engine you replayed the image of intimate time you had. The warmth of his large hands. The gentleness of his kisses. And even the obsessive smelling in the morning. How do you keep a demon happy? You satisfy him, satiate his desires and feed his idea of control. The way to satisfy your demon was by cleaning up the traces of his crimes and limiting his...exposure to more. 

Arriving to the warehouse you parked your car grabbing your badge and heading inside.

"Miss (Y/n) hello detective Shinso, serious enough you can get involved in it?"

"Yeah your hubby went and offed the spouse of some 'activist nut'. Apparently he ran a hate blog where he'd been trashing you for weeks."

"Well? How'd he do in the clean up?"

"Come and see for your self."

He guided you to the taped off crime scene where the ground was charred and the remains included were blackened with the same care.

"Finger prints unapplicable. The burns got rid of that problem for us. And look at number 4 evidence we found on 'em."

"A link to the Paranormal Front? Well isn't that convenient."

Pocketing the evidence you looked around realizing the team had begun to move out and new evidence being placed.

"So we have a motive and witness?"

"Done. And done. Witnesses are going to be some random nosy teens and death will be caused by illegal drug incident."

"Perfect, then we can use this baby as a ticket for disguise."

Walking away from the warehouse and into your car you unlocked the passenger side as the detective got in.

"Any idea who's the lucky disguisee?"

"Maybe Toga or Sato? His build seems to match the guy pretty well..."

"Ohh and not your husband? Dude's pretty good at playing the meek when he isn't screaming half the time."

"Nooo way he'd be on to us in a second it's best he stay out Heroes Association business."

[sharkfinn]

I was gonna talk about the new update of the Little Brother au when I first saw it, but I got caught up with stuff. But now I'm here, because it went from 1-100 real fast in the span of just a few panels, so yeah, I got some thoughts.

Anyways, the recent update was quite unpleasant to witness. And when I say "unpleasant", what I mean to say is-

RICKY, WHEN I CATCH YOU RICKY!!!!

I said if anything happens to Spot, I would be in your walls. Yeah, well, now I'm under your bed. Scratching at the frame, kicking the springs, and whispering into the night as you try to sleep, knowing you'll never be able to be rid of me.

Okay, but for realsies, I was holding back tears. I don't have a clue as to what Huginn and Muggin put in Draxum's... mutation stabilizer capsule..(???) to cause that kind of reaction from the machine. The glass bottle they put in there looked to have some sort of warning tape around it. I can make out a few key words. Hazardous, warning, do not use without (stabilizer?). So yeah, Hue and Mue did not read the fine print. They thought being (one of) the causes to Draxum's lab being utterly destroyed when the turtles got mutated was gonna get them in trouble? Heh, no. Being the cause to his son going limp in his arms will.

Also, whatever they pulled out of the drawer looked to have caused a reaction from Spot, so he possibly knew what it was and what it could do to him if they put it in... whatever the thing he's in is called.

Also also, I noticed there was blood pooling from the mask he was wearing. I don't know if he was loosing air, his body didn't react well to whatever liquid that was, or water filled his lungs. Whichever is the case, it just broke my heart to see.

I know Huginn and Muginn didn't mean the slightest of harm, nor did they expect any of this to happen. But it just confuses me how on earth it is possible that Drax hadn't already taught them how to use his equipment beforehand. This is a procedure that I assume has been done many times before. And Draxum trusted them enough to leave Spot in their care, and to let them start off the process. He isn't the type of man to put blind faith into others, so he must have had confidence for a reason, right?.

But, well, if that is the case, and they really had no experience at all. Then I don't really know who's to blame here. The gargoyle pals, or sheep Dad.

Jeez, I guess we got our answer to Spot's transformation. In the final panel, it looks to me that there's an idea cooking in our father dearests head. But it looks to be conflicting Drax, like it's something that's gonna have a long lasting affect on Spot. And something definitely not bad will happen when it's over.

Or, either, it's something else entirely unrelated. But, it still looks like a conflicting plan. So, we'll see. We'll see.

(If Spot dies I'm making you pay for my therapy bills btw)

well ill be counting my days then